


Through The Fire And Flames

by TheDoubleExposure



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Asexuality Spectrum, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-03-22 04:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3714985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDoubleExposure/pseuds/TheDoubleExposure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aulë dropped to one knee, his joints grinding in the same way his voice did. He still towered over Callisto. Even when he was kneeling, she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. “The task at hand is a quest. A great and dangerous quest to reclaim a lost home,” he leaned in, and Callisto had to resist taking a step back, “I have been led to believe you might be sympathetic to the cause”.</p><p>“Well, Aulë of Arda,” Callisto took a deep breath, not completely sure this was a good idea, “You have my attention”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my first Hobbit fic! This was a long time coming, and I'm excited to finally share it!
> 
> Warning: Because this deals with Greek mythology and Greek gods, especially Zeus, rape, its consequences and the aftermath, will be discussed throughout the story. However, I promise that there will be no outright depictions of it. Other warnings will be posted before chapters as well.

Callisto’s footsteps echoed heavily in the golden halls of Asgard as she made her way to Odin’s throne room. The All-Father had officially summoned her presence, and for what, she could only guess. She’d come to the Realm Eternal several months ago to visit her Norse kin for some respite. After being betrayed and banished from not only Olympus, but all of Greece and Italy as well, and subsequently wandering the Earth for two thousand years among mortals and involving herself in their wars and bloodshed, she had needed it. Odin welcomed her with open arms, as he always had, and told her that Asgard would be her home away from home for as long as she was willing to stay.

Home. The thought brought a deep ache to Callisto’s heart, and she had to stop her trek to the throne room. The desire for her family, her kingdom, and especially her long-gone son threatened to overwhelm her, and she had to lean against a wall in an attempt to collect herself. A passing Einherjar noticed her and asked if she was all right, but she simply waved him off. It would do no good to lose herself. Her parents and brothers were lost to her the moment she was exiled, Arcadia was thriving just fine without her last she heard, and though it pained her, she had to remind herself once again that Arcas was dead, and had been for as long as her banishment. Callisto told herself that her son would not want her to continue mourning his death, and that he would tell her to hold her head high and keep facing life as it came at her. This did little to console her, but she still made herself stand tall and continue toward her destination nonetheless.

She soon came upon the grand hall where the All-Father’s throne was located. Rays from the setting sun bathed everything they touched in golden light. There upon Hlidskjalf sat Odin, his winged helm upon his head and Gungnir in hand. He was flanked by his hounds, Geri and Freki, and his ravens were near him as always. The All-Father was not alone, however. Standing on the steps leading to the throne stood a man Callisto had not seen since she left Olympus. He bore the visage of a handsome youth, his golden curls topped with a winged hat, and on his feet were matching winged sandals. Hermes looked down upon her with a smirk befitting his trickster nature. Many years ago, Callisto would have returned the smirk, but now, she was tempted to slap it off his face.

Never taking her eyes off the Winged Messenger, she bowed in greeting to Odin, “What is _he_ doing here?” she asked icily.

Hermes descended the steps towards her, the smirk on his face growing wider, “Now, my dear niece, is that any way to greet your favorite uncle?”

“No, I suppose it is not,” Callisto said, “the proper greeting would be to stab you in the eye".

"Oh, come now. I don't think you want to dirty our host's floors," her uncle now stood at the foot of the steps. His herald's staff clanked on the floor when he made the last step, causing Callisto to wince at the sound. He stood in front of her, and gave her appearance a once-over.

"Callisto Apollides. As I live and breathe. I would say you look good, my niece, but your outfit is atrocious," he said, wrinkling his nose at her. The goddess unconsciously ran a hand over her military coveralls. She had nicked them, along with the boots on her feet, from a woman mechanic at a military base somewhere in England not long before the war ended. It was out of necessity that she grabbed them in the first place, needing to blend in with the other service people, though she belonged to no nation's army. They had turned out to be both comfortable and practical with all their pockets, so she had kept them and continued to wear them.

"Thank you for your assessment, Hermes. You look as foolish as ever," she said dryly, and the wings in Hermes' hat flapped happily on his head. The messenger of Olympus had always taken cutting remarks like water rolling off a duck's back. Nothing usually ruffled her uncle. It was why he was appointed as Zeus' herald in the first place.

A low growl of frustration escaped her mouth. She didn't want to be thinking positive thoughts about her uncle or any of her family for that matter. So she turned her attention to Asgard's king.

“You sent for me, All-Father?”

Odin’s one-eyed gaze settled on her, “I did. Hermes has news from Olympus that concerns you”.

“Oh? Olympus has not been _concerned_ with me for two thousand years. They were not concerned with me when they murdered my son and cast me out. I can hardly imagine why Olympus is concerned with me now, or why I should care”.

Callisto turned towards Hermes so she could tell him exactly where he could shove his news, but couldn’t find the words when she met her uncle’s eyes. The smirk was gone, and its place was a look of true regret.

“Callisto, Zeus has called you back to Olympus. He has called you home”. The words hung stagnant in the air, and Callisto was so shocked and confused by them, she could not form a response for several moments, and in those moments it felt like the universe had stopped. She had been summoned home. By Zeus. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t longed for this very event to happen, fantasized about it even, but she vowed she would never return. Not when the whole of Olympus had betrayed and abandoned her. And here was Hermes, the messenger, her uncle, her former friend, one of her betrayers, delivering the news that she had to go back to the one place it would destroy her to go back to.

Hermes reached down and grabbed her hand and it took in both of his, “Callisto, my beautiful niece, my little mother bear—“

Coherent thought came rushing back to her, and she wrenched her hand from Hermes’ grip, “No! You do not get to call me that anymore! Did you forget your role in the events leading up to my exile? Did you forget how you tattled on me to Zeus as if you were a child? Did you forget how you restrained me and made me watch while Ares and Hephaestus held down my son and burned him on Hephaestus’ forge, ignoring his screams as the fires charred his flesh until he was no more? Did you forget all that? You have no right to use endearments with me, Uncle. Not after that," and just for good measure she added with so much ice in her voice it could have frozen over Asgard, "And do not _ever_ touch me again".

Hermes looked unimpressed, “Did you forget that you are where you are now because you conspired against the king to usurp the throne?"

"I never did any such thing, Hermes," she said, her voice steadier than she felt, "I never wanted the throne of Olympus. Hera wanted revenge because I dared to be assaulted by Zeus against my will and had a child by him. She could not lash out at him, so she went after the next best thing. Her spitefulness is legendary, Hermes. You know this".

Shrugging, Hermes said, "All the same, it is your word against the queen's," his trademark smirk returned to his lips, "Your dalliance with Hera certainly did you no favors either".

Callisto seethed at the implication, “It was hardly a dalliance! I loved her, and treated her with all the love and respect that Zeus could not provide her, who, as long as we are pointing fingers, had dalliances—nay, I should say he violated hundreds if not thousands of men and women, myself included, and was never held accountable for his actions. He could not face the humiliation of his queen doing to him what he did to her, and would not dare to bring retribution down on her, so he punished me by taking my son away from me. Tell me, Hermes, why would I go anywhere near Olympus now? Why would I want to go back to those that betrayed me?”

“Because your king, your grandfather, has summoned you. Zeus is the ruler of Olympus and all the Olympians. He saved the primordial gods from the tyrannical rule of Cronus, his father, and took his place as king. He is entitled to do as he wishes. You, on the other hand, are not”.

It took every ounce of strength Callisto had to not slap her uncle all the way back to Olympus, taking a few steps away from him so she would not be tempted. She breathed in and out slowly to calm her ever increasing heartbeat. Olympus would never change. The men always felt entitled to lay with whomever caught their eye, and felt that the object of their desire was no more than a living receptacle for their lust. Anyone who rejected a god was either overtaken anyway, or was severely punished. She was a grand example of both outcomes. All the more reason to avoid the place.

“Why?” she asked, deciding that arguing about Olympian male entitlement would lead nowhere, “why now? Zeus could have called me home at any time. Why is he demanding my return now?” She thought of her father then. Of the many things Apollo had dominion over, the one that had caused the most trouble, not only for himself, but for others as well, was prophecy.

"Did my father have a vision?" she questioned, and received confirmation when her uncle tensed. "What did he see?"

Hermes didn’t respond right away. He seemed to be considering his answer quite carefully, which Callisto thought interesting in itself. When Hermes did speak, his voice was soft and gentle, “He saw you coming home. And it is time for you to do so, Callisto”.

She frowned, “Just like that? It was not time yesterday? Or a decade ago, or a century ago, or the moment I stepped off Olympus and out of Greece’s borders?”

“Yes, just like that. You have been gone long enough. It is time for Olympus to be whole once again”.

“As long as Arcas is dead, Olympus will never be whole”, she spat, “not for me, and there will never be a reason for me to step foot in that Hel-hole again. I will not go with you. You can go back to Olympus alone and tell Zeus what he can do with his summons,” she turned on her heel and started storming off back to her quarters.

Hermes called after her, “Your parents miss you, Callisto. Would you not like to see your mother and father again? What about your brothers? They miss their elder sister. Do not think I failed to notice that you still wear your cypress and laurel diadem, the very trees sacred to Artemis and Apollo. You can talk all you like about how you hate us, but you are ruled by your sentimentality. You need to come home. You belong with your family," under his breath he could be heard muttering, "And that crown with those clothes? And she says I look foolish".

Ignoring his continued assessment of her appearance, she stopped in her tracks and turned to her uncle, fuming, “Damn you, Hermes! Damn you to Tartarus! How dare you use my family to manipulate me,” she closed the gap between her and Hermes, her face mere inches from his, “I want to know the real reason why you are here. What is the real reason Zeus wants me back? What did Apollo see in his vision?"

Hermes gulped, “I already told you,” he squeaked.

Callisto narrowed her eyes, “You are afraid,” she smiled wickedly at the realization. A sense of satisfaction warmed her heart at seeing Hermes' feathers finally ruffled. She roughly grabbed her uncle by the scruff of his tunic, “You should be. I have been gone for two thousand years. That is two thousand years, over seven hundred thousand days, of replaying my son’s murder in my head. Two thousand years of coming up with countless scenarios to tear every Olympian limb from limb. Two thousand years of ever growing rage,” she leaned in even closer to him, bringing her lips up to his ear, and whispered in a deadly tone, “Would you like to be on the receiving end of that rage?”

“Enough,” Odin’s voice boomed. Callisto jumped. With all of the commotion she had forgotten that the All-Father was there. His one good eye looked down on her with a stern gaze. Heat rose up to her cheeks, and she felt ashamed at her behavior. Odin had been a good friend to her for ages, and he and the halls he ruled in deserved more respect than she had just showed.

“Forgive me, All-Father,” she said, “I am quite overwhelmed by the news I have received from my uncle, but that is no excuse for my behavior”.

Odin’s gaze softened, “There is nothing to forgive, my friend. You’re not the only one surprised by the news”. He stood up from his throne and walked down the steps to the two Olympians in front of him, “I think it is clear, for the time being, that we are at a stalemate. Perhaps we should take a break, collect ourselves, and reconvene tomorrow. Hermes, as Olympus’ messenger, you are welcome to stay in my halls in the meantime”.

Hermes smiled politely at Asgard’s king, the trickster façade firmly back in place, but Callisto could see that his expression looked strained and shaken, “Thank you, King Odin, but I think I will take the Bifrost back home for the night. My niece has much to sort through, and I don’t think my presence will help her see reason”.

“As you wish. Return tomorrow at the noon hour. You and Callisto can continue your conversation then”.

With a low bow, Hermes walked out of the throne room towards the Bifrost, Asgard’s mode of interstellar travel. Callisto scowled at his back, but was thankful that he would not be present for the night. Once he was out of sight, the anger that had welled up inside her finally deflated. She really didn’t know what to make of what transpired. Some part of her wanted to follow Hermes, to set foot on Olympian soil, to hold her mother and father and brothers in her arms again, but the idea of facing the gods of her home, Zeus and Hera especially, made bile rise in her throat. She could just imagine the looks of smug satisfaction on their faces, on Zeus because he’d gotten his way again, and on Hera’s because of seeing Callisto so utterly humiliated. It was that reason that the goddess realized that Olympus would never again feel like home to her. Too much had happened. Too much had changed.

A hand on her shoulder brought her out of her thoughts. The look Odin was giving her was a mix of concern and sympathy, “Are you all right?” he asked her.

She sighed, “I am really not sure. Never in my wildest dreams did I think this would happen. It is a lot to take in”.

“That’s an understatement if I ever heard one,” he replied. A thoughtful look crossed his face, “How are you going to handle this?”

“I am not going back there,” she said, more angrily than she intended. Taking a deep breath to steady herself she continued, “It would not be the same anymore. I am also suspicious of my grandfather’s motives. Calling me back out of the blue. Something is off”.

Odin’s face had gone impassive. He looked behind him to one of the throne room’s exits. He turned back to Callisto and said, “You know, the gardens are lovely this time of evening. Will you walk with me?”

“Of course,” Callisto said, understanding that Odin wanted to continue their talk away from eavesdroppers.

They strode in silence out of the throne room into the cool evening air towards the gardens, which were immaculately tended to by Odin’s wife, Frigg. Callisto recognized many of the flowers and trees. Most came from Frigg’s home of Vanaheim, but there were others that were native to Asgard, Earth, and the other realms as well. They had a good view of the Bifrost from where they were standing, and as she looked out, Callisto saw the Rainbow Bridge send out a great beam of light into the heart of deep space. It was most likely Hermes leaving this realm for his own.

“I never thought I would regret negotiating with you to let my family use that,” she said to Odin, inclining her head towards the Bifrost, “But I currently find the feeling to be quite intense”.

“The fact that I let them near it at all is a testament to your negotiating skills, though after today’s events, I’d have to say you’ve lost your touch, my friend,” Odin smiled, his eye taking on a glint of amusement, “But one can hardly blame you for your reaction”.

The goddess did not return the king’s smile, continuing instead to gaze into the black abyss that was currently carrying her uncle to give word to Zeus of her snub. Callisto and Hermes had used to be close, both having a great love of travelling. When Hermes wasn’t sending messages between the other gods or escorting souls to the underworld, he would often accompany her on her diplomatic endeavors. After her own parents, she would have to say that she was closest with Hermes. He had even been the one to coin her nickname “mother bear” after she'd gotten him out of a couple of tight spots during their travels. Though Hermes was her uncle, she was older than him by several centuries (the same held true for her uncle Dionysus and aunts Hebe and Athena), and being a trickster by nature, got himself in trouble on a regular basis. Callisto had always protected him. It was a shame he couldn't do the same for her. For a moment she lamented what their easy friendship had deteriorated to.

The feeling quickly passed, however, and she decided she and Odin should just cut to the chase, “You wanted to carry on our discussion away from prying eyes. What is on your mind, All-Father?”

“I have a feeling you are right to be suspicious of Zeus,” he replied, “Your grandfather has a history of taking what he wants regardless of the consequences. I was expecting threats when you told Hermes you wouldn’t return with him, and yet he made none, and when you accused him of being afraid, it was plain to see that he was. This is not a simple case of it being time for you to come home. I think whatever your father saw in his vision, it was not good”.

“And now the question is: what was it?”

“I do not know, and I do not have a guess at this point, but I fear for you. I fear that Zeus will be the one to come through the Bifrost tomorrow and you will be forced to return whether you want to or not”.

Blanching at the thought of facing Zeus after all this time, Callisto fought to squash the feeling of foreboding that was taking root in her heart. If Odin’s fears rang true and Zeus appeared instead of Hermes, she would have to return to Olympus, and there would be nothing she could do to keep that from happening, “I do not know what to do,” her voice was thicker than she had wanted.

“I do not think there is much we can do right now. We will have to wait until tomorrow and see what happens. I think it is time for both of us to get some rest tonight. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be eventful, to say the least”.

“I have a feeling you are right,” Callisto sighed, “If there is nothing further, All-Father, I think I will take my leave”.

She started to make her way out of the gardens, but Odin caught her arm, “There is one more thing,” he said, and she stopped to let him speak, “Callisto, my friend, whatever happens tomorrow, Asgard is with you. Your role as Olympus’ ambassador, mediator, and peacekeeper has been invaluable to all the Nine Realms and the other divine realms of Midgard, and many are grateful to you from keeping the gods from descending into war, and you have been a loyal friend to me for many years. I will support whatever decision you ultimately make”.

Tears pricked at the goddess’ eyes, “Thank you, _fílos mou_. I cannot thank you enough for letting me stay here and for your unwavering support. It means more to me than you know”.

Odin gave a small bow, and Callisto exited the gardens and made her way back to her quarters, her mind whirling the entire way. She had no idea how she was going to keep anyone from forcing her back to Olympus, and she wasn’t sure if she could manage it anyway. Once Zeus made up his mind, he got his way. Always. Callisto would never be able to contend with that kind of will, and she despaired at the thought. But for tonight, she was still free, and she would relish that thought as much as she could. Feeling completely drained from the day’s events, she started to change into her nightclothes. Her hands reached up to her thick, dark hair, and she undid the clasp that held her diadem in place. She looked at it sadly, the golden cypress and laurel sprigs winding together as a representation of her parents’ devotion to her and each other. Apollo had been so proud when he had given it to her. He and Artemis had designed it themselves, and had Hephaestus construct it as a surprise. Callisto supposed she should have stopped wearing it the moment she left her home, but she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of the hair accessory. It had too much sentimental value. Placing it gently on the bedside table, she finished changing over and flopped into an armchair in the corner of the room. She would not find sleep tonight. She had not found sleep since Arcas died. Gods didn't need to sleep, or eat, or take part in any of the other functions mortals found necessary to survive, but sometimes they did these things anyway because they enjoyed them or found them satisfying in some way. But Callisto did not get enjoyment out of sleep, nor did she find it satisfying. Her dreams were plagued with fire and the screams of her son, so she had avoided the activity.

She wished Lycaon was there with her. Her old friend had been wise well beyond his mortal years, and she was sure he would know what to do. But he was not. Lycaon had passed away only a few days before Arcas had, finally succumbing to his old age. His death may not have been as traumatizing as Arcas', but it left her no less sad.

Picking up a book on a small table next to the armchair, she opened it and began to read. It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism is welcome
> 
> fílos mou--my friend
> 
> I am no scholar of the Greek language, ancient or modern. The Greek things Callisto and the other gods say mostly come from Google translate and some other websites I have used in my research. If you do know Greek, see something in my story and think "Good god, that is NOT how you say that", or "For goodness sake, that's NOT what that means", please let me know and I will be happy to fix it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visitor comes through the Bifrost, but it's not who Callisto was expecting

Early the next morning, Callisto's reading was interrupted by a great commotion outside her room. She padded over to the door, and was greeted by the sight of the Einherjar sprinting down the hall towards the Birfrost. Swallowing the anxiety that suddenly iced her veins, she grabbed one of the passing guards and asked him, “What is going on?” 

“Someone is trying to force their way through the Bifrost”. 

She gulped, “From Olympus?” 

The guard shook his head, “No, Lady Callisto, from a world outside and beyond Yggdrasil,” he turned his head in the direction his fellow soldiers were running, “I must go. The All-Father has called all the guards to defend against the intruder,” and with that, he joined his comrades, leaving Callisto alone in her doorway. Turning back inside, she changed as fast as she could out of her nightclothes and back into her coveralls. Odin had been kind enough to welcome her into his home, so the choice to stand with him now was an easy one. She grabbed the harness that held her shield, the bear insignia in the center of it, symbolic of her shape shifting form, gleamed in the early morning sunlight that shined through the windows, and secured it over her shoulders and onto her back. Her falcata was next, fastening the sheath’s belt around her waist. Lastly, she grabbed her spear, her preferred weapon. She looked at the bedside table where her diadem was, but decided to forego it. Being sufficiently armed, she dashed out of her quarters and followed the last of Asgard’s army. 

The observatory that housed the Bifrost was brimming with soldiers, and Callisto had to push her way through the throng to find Odin. He was easy enough to spot standing with Heimdall, the Bifrost’s gatekeeper, talking in agitated, hushed tones. Odin’s son, Thor, and Thor’s wife, Sif, were standing nearby as well. When the goddess of the grain spotted her, she waved Callisto over to stand with her and Thor. 

“Did you hear what is happening?” Sif asked her, her expression pinched with anxiety.

Callisto nodded, “Yes. Someone is attempting to force their way here from an unknown world”.

“It shouldn’t even be possible,” Thor barked, “The Bifrost can only be controlled by Heimdall and my father”.

“Whoever it is must be quite powerful then,” Callisto said, getting more and more worried.

Thor scoffed, “Not as powerful as us. The Æsir are mighty warriors and we will not suffer some intruder to—“

The sound of the Bifrost firing up drowned out the rest of whatever the thunder god was about to say. Blinding rainbow light shot into the blackness, and Callisto had to shield her eyes momentarily. Odin shouted at Heimdall to stop what was going on, but there wasn’t much the gatekeeper could do. Almost as quickly as the light had shot out, it retracted, and silence fell upon the occupants of the observatory.

Callisto uncovered her eyes to look upon the newcomer, and was awed by the sight. The man, if she could call him that, was huge, standing at least eight feet tall and his bare torso was bulging with muscles. He had the features of a man, but, to Callisto’s surprise, he looked as if he were carved from stone. Even his beard looked chiseled. Once the confusion died down, the Einherjar began to advance on the stranger, but Odin halted them. He then turned to address the stone man himself, “I am Odin All-Father, son of Bor, King of Asgard. Who are you and what is your purpose here?”

The stranger held up his hands in placation, “Peace, Odin, son of Bor!” he said in a voice that made Callisto think of grinding stone, “I am unarmed. I do not mean you or your people any harm. I am Aulё of Arda, and I am here seeking assistance”.

“You forced your way into my kingdom, Aulё of Arda, through a mode of transportation that is only supposed to be controlled by myself and my gatekeeper. Forgive me if I am disinclined to believe what you are telling me”.

“I speak truth, Your Majesty. There is a task at hand in my world, and I came here in search of one I believe could be of help” 

Odin still looked skeptical, “And who do you believe could be of help?”

Aulё scanned the crowd, as if he was expecting whoever he was looking for was just going to pop out of the woodwork, “I am looking for the one they call Callisto Apollides. I was told I could find her here”.

The goddess in question felt as if her stomach dropped all the way down to her toes. The giant, bulgy rock man was looking for  _her_? So many questions raced through her mind, but they were quickly silenced when she realized everyone’s eyes were on her, including Aulё’s. She looked to Odin for assistance, but he only gave a little nod of encouragement.

When she looked back at Aulë, he beckoned her forward, “Come, little one. You have nothing to fear from me”. In spite of the reassurance, Callisto gulped, but willed her feet onward anyway.

Once she stood in front of him she declared, “I am Callisto Apollides of Olympus. Who told you that you could find me here?”

The giant smiled down at her, “My own king informed me of your location, my lady. He is Eru. We also call him Ilúvatar”.

Callisto frowned, “I do not know who that is”.

“Oh, but you do. You know him as Chaos,” he turned his gaze to Odin, “And you know him as Ginnungagap”.

Callisto’s eyes widened in surprise, and when she turned to look at Odin, she saw a similar expression reflected on his face. Chaos was the void from which all things in the universe came. Technically, she could consider him her great-great-great-great-great grandfather, but he was a being that seemed remote and unreachable. She had never met him, or even thought about him much at all if she was being honest. It was quite the surprise that he thought to suggest her to this stone giant before her.

“You said that there was a task at hand in your world, so, why, Aulë of Arda, would Chaos send you to find me, of all people, to help?”

Instead of immediately answering, Aulë dropped to one knee, his joints grinding in the same way his voice did. He still towered over Callisto. Even when he was kneeling, she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. “The task at hand is a quest. A great and dangerous quest to reclaim a lost home,” he leaned in, and Callisto had to resist taking a step back, “I have been led to believe you might be sympathetic to the cause”.

_Hel’s Bells_ , she cursed to herself. The situation seemed incredibly surreal. Just yesterday she was summoned home by Zeus for a suspiciously unknown reason, and Hermes would be arriving in a few short hours in an attempt to convince her to come willingly. Now, an enormous stone god from an unknown world millions of light years away had travelled all the way to Asgard to ask that she help reclaim someone else’s home. Knowing that she could never regain the home she once knew, she had to admit that the idea of helping others reclaim their own held a certain appeal. There was also the side benefit that she might be able to evade her family for a while.

“Well, Aulë of Arda,” she took a deep breath, not completely sure this was a good idea, “You have my attention”.

Aulë smiled back at her, “That’s a good start”.

“I will need to know more details before I make a final decision,” she replied.

“That seems fair,” he said. His gaze turning to the still packed observatory, “Though I think we need to make haste. You don’t have much time”.

Callisto scowled at the reminder of her uncle’s imminent arrival, “Right. I suppose we do need to hurry. All-Father,” she turned to the king, who had been watching his friend with a keen eye, “could we continue this conversation in a more private setting?”

Odin pointed to the handful of guards standing closest to him, “You, take him to the War Room. The rest of you, back to your posts”.

The Einherjar obeyed their king immediately. The soldiers of Asgard filed out of the observatory, the group escorting Aulë at the back, and Callisto, Odin, Thor, and Sif bringing up the rear.

The walk to the All-Father’s war room took little time, and once they arrived, Odin dismissed all but two guards, instructing them to stand outside. He dismissed Thor and Sif as well even though they were both reluctant to leave the king and Callisto alone with Aulë. They stepped inside where the stranger was waiting for them. The room itself was large and open, and on the walls were great tapestries depicting scenes from battles the Æsir had been involved in. In the center of the room where Aulë was standing was an enormous round table with a dozen seats around it, and on the table stood a model of Yggdrasil and all the Nine Realms it housed. The stone god stared at the object, seemingly entranced by the miniature World Tree.

“Is this what your corner of the cosmos really looks like?” he asked.

“More or less,” replied Odin cooly.

A small, reverent smile broke out on Aulë’s face, “Until recently, we did not know of the existence of other worlds beyond our own, much less one as beautiful as this”.

“’We’?” Callisto asked, “There are others besides you?”

“Yes. There are fourteen of us altogether. We are creations of Eru. Thought into existence as vessels to create our world”.

"So Chaos—Eru, is your father?”

Aulë shrugged, “In a manner of speaking, yes”.

“ _M_ _á tón kýna_ ,” the goddess grumbled. She slumped into one of the seats at the table. When Odin followed suit, Callisto turned to him and said dryly, “Just what I needed. More family”. She and the All-Father chuckled together, though it was without any humor. Aulë merely watched them, waiting patiently for their laughter to die down.

“If you two are finished, I believe you,” he pointed at Callisto, “said that you wanted answers before deciding to help me”.

“Indeed,” Callisto said, sobering, “You want me to help reclaim a home. Whose home am I helping to reclaim, exactly?”

“They are my creations, my  _children_. After my siblings and I brought Arda into existence, we awaited the coming of the Children of Ilúvatar, meaning the Elves and the race of Men. I grew impatient, desiring students to teach my craft. I am a smith, you see. It was my task to shape the stone of Arda. We did not know when Eru’s children would emerge, so I created my own race, and called them dwarves. I made them to be hardy and steadfast, resistant to the authority of other races,” Aulë was beaming, his whole face bright and proud as he spoke of his dwarves, “I was so happy with how they turned out. The only downside was that I could not grant them autonomy. Only Eru could do that”.

“So, did he grant it to them?” asked Callisto, “I mean, you are his son, in a way. I would think he’d be pleased with what you had made”.

The way the light left Aulë’s face, however, conveyed the opposite of her implication, “Not exactly. Eru came to me, displeased. He had wanted elves and men to be awoken on Arda first, and asked why I would subvert his authority the way I did. I immediately realized my mistake—“

“Creating life is not a mistake,” the goddess fixed him with a look as hard as his body, “and you simply wanted pupils to teach”.

Nodding feebly, Aulë continued, “Still, I deceived my father and king, and no matter my intent, the end result was that I undermined his will. I freely conceded my folly to Eru, and made to smite the dwarves. No, no, please let me finish,” he said when Callisto’s expression turned to one of horror, “Before I could, cause them harm, Eru stopped me, saying he was adopting the dwarves as his own and had already breathed the spark of life into them. He and I came to a compromise. The dwarves would be put to sleep, and then awakened once again once Elves and Men were brought to Arda”.

“Well, that certainly turned out better than it could have,” Callisto said, “It would have been a shame if you had to destroy your own children”.

“Indeed. It would have caused me great pain to do so,” he said.

“Then I am genuinely glad that was a pain you did not have to bear. Please, tell me more about your dwarves. I think it would be prudent for me to know more about them, including how their home was taken from them”.

“It is not a pleasant tale. My children have not had an easy existence. When they awoke on Arda for the second time, I had placed them in seven kingdoms. The first to awake was Durin, and his kingdom was a mountain called Khazad-dûm. I said earlier that I am a smith, and I created the dwarves to teach them my craft. They were excellent pupils. There were none in Arda who were better smiths, craftsmen, and masons. Unfortunately, through an ill-fated series of events, the dwarves delved too far into the mountain, and awoke an ancient demon. The population was nearly wiped out, and Durin’s Folk became refugees”.

“So I am to help reclaim this Khazad-dûm from the demon?” Callisto asked.

“No. I do not think it would be possible without a massive army,” Aulë replied.

“Do the dwarves not have armies?”

“None sufficient enough to take on this particular demon”.

Her brow furrowed, “Do the dwarves not have alliances with the elves and men?”

The stone god was silent, and that was all the answer Callisto needed.

“No one will help them,” She stated sadly.

“The other races of Arda view the dwarves as greedy and selfish, even though they are simply doing what I taught them to. They know not how to do anything else”.

“How…incredibly upsetting. So the dwarves are good enough when they are crafting things for others, but when they need help, they are on their own?”

“So it would seem,” Aulë said, his tone and expression dark.

Something inside Callisto sparked to life then. Knowing full well what it was like to be liked when helping others and abandoned when you needed others to help you, she realized that Aulë had been right when he said she would be sympathetic to the dwarves’ situation.

Making up her mind then, she declared, “I will help you”.

Aulë cocked his head in confusion, “I have not finished my tale yet”.

“I know, and I would like for you to do so, for I still have questions, but your children’s circumstances have resonated with me. I will help them reclaim their home”.

It seemed to take a moment for her words to sink in with the stone god, but once they did, his eyes lit up once again with happiness, “I am glad to hear it”.

Callisto could not help but smile back, “Now, if I am not to help the dwarves reclaim their home of Khazad-dûm, which home am I supposed to help reclaim?”

“That is where my tale continues. After the dwarves were driven from Khazad-dûm, they became scattered across Arda, but most sought refuge in a colony mountain called Erebor. The mountain flourished into a full-fledged kingdom until the rule of King Thrór. He became obsessed with amassing an enormous hoard of gold, and the obsession drove him mad. It attracted a fire drake that destroyed a city of men that lay just outside the mountain before taking Erebor and driving the dwarves out, once again forcing Durin’s Folk in exile”.

“Let me guess,” Callisto interjected, “No one helped them then either”.

“No one even offered a scrap of food. My children are once again homeless, and have been so for nearly two hundred years. Thrór and his son Thráin are long gone. The current heir to the throne is Thrór’s grandson, Thorin Oakenshield—“

“Oakenshield?” she interrupted.

“He defended himself against a foe using nothing more than an oak branch. The epithet has stuck with him since then,” when she nodded in understanding, he continued, “And it is he who will be attempting to take back the mountain”.

Leaning back in her seat, the goddess considered everything Aulë had told her.

“So, if the dwarves need help, why are you asking me? I still plan on doing it, but I do not understand why you cannot”.

“I do not mean offense when I say this, but you are not very powerful for a god".

"Wow. Thank you. What a lovely compliment," she replied dryly. Callisto was well aware of her lack of power. The Olympians achieved their status through prayers and worship, and Callisto had neither of those things. It was something that hadn't really bothered her. She had a place amongst the gods, a job that suited her skills that her family appreciated and respected her for doing, and she didn't need temples and priestesses to do it properly. There had only been one minimal hint that the mortals knew of her godliness, and that was a bear cult in Attica, her birthplace, that had been dedicated to Artemis. The myth the mortals told of her didn't count since they had gotten it so thoroughly  _wrong_.

Aulë chuckled, "Forgive me. I know my words are not flattering. But I think Eru sent me to you because you are strong enough to give my children a fighting chance--"

"But not so much that I will make the quest easy for them," Callisto finished.

"Exactly, besides, Eru forbade me. I planned on intervening, but he came to me again asking why I would undermine him. I did not back down this time. I told him that I would no longer tolerate my creations being treated the way they were, and that I would not stand by and do nothing. That was when he finally informed me that Arda was not the only world that he had created. There were many worlds in the universe beyond our own looked after by other gods. He told me of Gaia, of Midgard, and one goddess who dedicated a good portion of her life helping others, exhibiting a deep kindness uncommon amongst her kin, who fell in love with the wrong person, and paid dearly for it, and who knows what it is like to beg for help and not receive it, who knows what it is like to be exiled and not see your home for too long. Eru forbade me from intervening directly, but said that he would allow me to ask you to help”.

“Well, you found me, and I have agreed to assist your dwarves”.

“Yes, you have. And I will be forever indebted to you for it”.

“I will keep that in mind”.

“I would expect nothing less. Now, I have told you the tale of my children. Is there anything else you wish to know?”

Callisto mulled everything over for a moment before a thought occurred to her, “Once I arrive in Arda, how am I supposed to find this Thorin Oakenshield, and how am I supposed to convince him to let me come along on his quest?”

“Ah, that is one thing I was allowed to take care of myself. We have servants in Arda. The Maiar. They were created along with my brothers and sisters and I, but they are not as powerful. Five Maiar were chosen to directly keep evil at bay on Arda. They wander the world amongst the people, and they let everyone think they are wizards. One of them will be travelling with Thorin on his quest. His name is Gandalf, and he will be expecting you when you arrive. He has already spoken with Thorin about you coming along”.

She breathed a sigh of relief, glad that actually finding those she was going to help was one thing she wouldn’t need to worry about, “Good”.

“I must warn you. Thorin will be hesitant about your presence in his company, and he is very stubborn”.

“Great,” she said sarcastically.

Aulë smiled mischievously at her, “Do not fret. Were you not your kin’s diplomat and ambassador? You wandered the world helping mortals and gods alike, spreading the goodwill of your home. Even after your exile, you still acted as mediator for others, yes?”

“I did, yes”.

“Then you have nothing to worry about”.

“Great,” she said again, “When can I leave?”

“I would suggest leaving as soon as possible. I do not think you have much time left before you kin comes to collect you”.

“Hel’s Bells, I almost forgot about Hermes. You did not happen to think of a plan for that before coming here, did you?”

At that point, Odin finally decided to speak, “Do not worry about it, my friend. I do not like Olympus, and I do not like Zeus. The only reason I put up with them is because of you. I will relish the opportunity to pull one over on your grandfather,” he put a hand on Callisto’s shoulder, turning her to meet his eye, “You do know that you cannot run from there forever. You will have to face Zeus, eventually”.

“I know, but, All-Father, I need to do this. You know me”.

The All-Father nodded, “Then I will help you any way I can”.

Aulë took the opportunity to chime in, “Because you are doing me a great favor, I will promise you this: as long as you are in Arda, your family will not find you”.

“Thank you. You have no idea what a relief that is”.

“Is there anything else you wish to ask?” Aulë questioned.

She shook her head, “Only that I be allowed to grab a few things in my quarters before I depart”.

“Certainly, but you need to hurry. I do not think it will be much longer before your uncle arrives”.

Upon hearing that, Callisto shot up from her chair and hurried out of the War Room. It wasn’t far from the guest quarters, and once she found hers she burst in, knowing exactly what she was going to take with her. She grabbed a field jacket off the back of a chair. This she had taken off a dead soldier during the last leg of the mortals' war. It was what had prompted her stay in Asgard to begin with. The concentration camps had been horrific enough, but after hearing about the atomic bombs that had been dropped on Japan, she decided that she needed a break from mortal men and their bloodshed. Shaking the memories from her mind, she shrugged her shield’s harness off her back and put the jacket on over her coveralls. The harness was once again situated over her shoulders, and the last thing she picked up was her diadem, but instead of putting it in her hair, she stowed it away in one of the pockets of the field jacket. Requiring nothing else, she felt satisfied that she was ready to go and silently bid farewell to her quarters, and rushed with all speed to the Bifrost.

When she got there, Odin and Aulë were already waiting for her, “I am ready,” she declared.

“Good,” Odin said, “Hermes is hailing Heimdall. Zeus is with him. You must leave now”.

If adrenaline hadn’t been coursing through her before, it certainly was now. She could only manage to nod, and stepped in front of the Bifrost’s portal that would take her to Arda.

“Good luck, little one,” Aulë called from behind her, “Take good care of my children”.

“I will,” she vowed, and she felt something inside her snap into place. When an Olympian makes a promise, it is always made on the River Styx. The god who made the vow is then magically compelled to follow through.

The Bifrost roared to life, and pulled Callisto into the wormhole. Blinding light enveloped her briefly before giving way to the void of space. Stars and planets whizzed by as she hurtled toward her destination. She always marveled the view of the cosmos traveling by Bifrost afforded her, and this unfamiliar pocket of the heavens was no different.

It wasn’t long before she was once again blinded by light and felt solid ground beneath her feet. The light receded and she was welcomed to the sight of a clearing in a forest. A laugh of euphoria and joy escaped from her lips. She made it. She travelled to a world beyond Yggdrasil and evaded her family. This earth was not Gaia, the sky was not Uranus, the sun was not Helios, and the moon was not Selene.

It was oddly comforting.

The sound of a throat clearing came from behind her, and she whirled around, spear in hand ready to strike. There sat an elderly man in a grey cloak and hat upon a brown horse. In one hand he held his horse’s bridle, in the other he held a bridle for a golden colored horse next to him. A long wooden staff lay astride his lap. She had a good idea of who this man was.

“Are you Callisto Apollides?” he asked her in a gruff voice.

“That depends,” she answered, “Are you Gandalf?”

“Indeed,” he said, his stern look not wavering, “It’s about time you got here”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Má tón kýna--literally, "by the dog". As far as I can tell, it's the Greek equivalent of "gosh golly gee wiz!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Callisto meets Bilbo Baggins and takes part in an unexpected party

“How much were you told about me?” Callisto asked Gandalf. The two had been regaling each other for the last hour about their respective worlds, though it was the wizard who did most of the talking. He had spent a majority of that time filling her in on the details of the quest that she had not thought to ask of Aulë. Evidently, the quest was being taken on by a group of only thirteen dwarves, Gandalf, and herself. The goddess had voiced her concerns that such a small number was taking on a dragon in a mountain, but Gandalf explained that the plan was to steal an item known as the Arkenstone (a detail Aulë had failed to mention, and one Gandalf had to explain), which was part of the stolen treasure hoard, and use it to rally the other dwarven kingdoms together to kill the dragon. Callisto was unsure about the whole thing. It seemed like a great hassle to steal one gem in a great hoard, rally several kingdoms, and  _then_  kill the dragon.

“I know that you are a goddess from another world,” he started, puffing on a pipe he had been smoking since they had started riding, “I know that Aulë the Smith requested your presence, and that you possess a great number of skills that will be useful on this journey, mainly your talents in combat and diplomacy”.

“Is that all you were told?” Callisto asked.

The wizard narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, “Is there something else I should know?”

“Nothing relevant,” she answered, fidgeting under his scrutiny. She briefly considered telling him the whole story of how she came to Arda, but decided against it. It really wasn't that relevant, and was too painful a story to tell anyway.  “What of our leader? What does he know of me?”

Gandalf met her eyes, his own incredibly sheepish, “To be honest, my dear, I was not completely truthful with Thorin about your origins,” he paused when she arched a brow at him, but ultimately ignored her look, “He is aware that you are not from this world, and the notion does not sit well with him. Thorin Oakenshield does not trust many outside of his own race, much less outside of Middle Earth. He is under the impression that you are coming on my request. Your background has also not been made known to him, and I think it would be wise to keep it that way, at least for now”.

"That will not be a problem. The fact that I am a god is not something I divulge to others unless necessary," truth be told, if she could have withheld that information from Gandalf, she would have. The many ways in which the quest could possibly fail if her divine nature became known to the others ran through the goddess’ mind. For the most part, when gods and mortals crossed paths, it didn’t end well for the mortals. Callisto thought of her Uncle Dionysus’ entire cult, and let out a shudder. She had always found something arrogant in the other gods for needing reverence from mortals before they would offer assistance. The gods had a responsibility to do their divine duty, and she had always felt it more efficient to just help.

“Another thing,” Gandalf continued, “your people have a mastery of all languages, yes?”

“Indeed. We call it the All-Tongue,” she said, not sure where this question was going.

“Then I should warn you, dwarves have their own language, one that they keep secret to outsiders, along with many of their customs. It would anger them greatly if they knew you could understand it,” he gave her a very pointed look, and Callisto understood clearly: pretend she couldn’t understand them when they spoke their dwarf language.

“Wonderful. Thirteen dwarves, a wizard and an exhiled goddess are going to sneak into a mountain to steal a pretty rock and kill a dragon, and the goddess won’t even be able to communicate with the dwarves. This is a  _great_  idea. It’s a wonder no one has thought of it sooner,” the goddess grumbled.

“Don’t be so disheartened, my dear,” Gandalf said, far more spirited than the situation called for, “the dwarves also speak the Common Tongue, so you will still be able to communicate with them without difficulty”.

In a gesture of frustration, Callisto ran a hand through her unruly hair,  “Even still, Gandalf, this task seems impossible”.

“Says the  _god_  who travelled through the  _stars_  to get here. Do not despair. Things are not as impossible as they seem. You should have faith in my plan”.

The horse she was riding threw his head back as if in agreement with the wizard, and the goddess gave him an affectionate pat. Because of his golden color, she had decided to name him Aethon after one of the four horses that pulled Helios’ chariot across the sky. He was a good natured animal, and Callisto was grateful that Gandalf had the foresight to bring a horse for her. Looking on ahead, she saw that the trees in the forest they were travelling through would be clearing in a couple hundred yards. She couldn’t see much further than that, only that the land was hilly.

“Gandalf, where exactly are we going?” she asked, chiding herself that it was something she should have asked earlier, but in the midst of the whirlwind she got swept up in, it was something that had slipped her mind.

“If we are going to steal the Arkenstone from a dragon, we are going to need a burglar. Our destination is the home of the person I have in mind”.

“Oh? Another company member? And who is this person, may I ask?”

“His name is Bilbo Baggins, and he’s a hobbit of The Shire”.

Her face twisted in confusion. What was a hobbit? What was The Shire? “That does not mean anything to me, Gandalf”.

The wizard didn’t look particularly concerned about her question. In fact, he looked a bit smug, as if giving her an answer without explaining it was a thing he was taking great pleasure in.

“It will soon, my dear. Actually, you are about to see right now”.

Callisto was still confused for only a moment, for their horses stepped past the line of trees, and the goddess was greeted by one of the lushest landscapes she had ever laid eyes on. There were endless rolling hills covered with vibrant green grass, and there were flowers  _everywhere_. As their horses walked on, they came upon a field being worked on by small people. They didn’t look much different from the mortals of Callisto’s Earth, except for their large, hairy bare feet. A few of them gazed up from their work at Gandalf and her, and they looked at the pair with a mixture of interest and suspicion.

“Hello!” Callisto called, waving at the little workers, “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”

None of the hobbits responded to her. Most seemed surprised that she spoke to them in the first place, others simply glared at the pair of them.

“Not very friendly,” she murmured to the wizard.

Chuckling, he replied, “Few outsiders come through the Shire, so we are quite the novelty,” he took a moment to consider her then, taking in her appearance, “You also do not look like the people of this world”.

Looking down at herself and her mismatched military uniform, Callisto couldn’t help but agree. The pattern of heredity didn’t always follow a logical path amongst the gods (the offspring of Typhon and Echidna sprang to mind), so while her mother and father had been fair of hair and eyes and complextion, Callisto definitely looked Greek with her dark hair and olive skin. She did look vaguely like them in facial structure, if one squinted their eyes and tilted their head. The only real indication that she was her parents’ child was her sea-green eyes, a combination of Artemis’ green and Apollo’s blue.

As they made their way through the market area of the little town, Gandalf stopped at the local inn and had their horses taken to the stables.

"We'll be walking the rest of the way," he stated, and she simply nodded in reply.

They continued on a winding road that led them past houses built into the hills with big round doors and even bigger gardens. The simple beauty eased Callisto's troubled heart, and she hoped that once her task was done, if her family hadn't caught up to her by then, she could come back to this place.

Soon enough, the road curved left, and the wizard and the goddess came upon the largest home Callisto had seen yet in this beautiful place. As the pair made their way to the front door, it became apparent that there was a figure sitting on a bench just inside the gate. He was a comely little thing, with golden brown curls and finely made clothing. There was a pipe in his hand and the most blissful look upon his face, and Callisto couldn't help but smile at the sight of him.

"This is our hobbit," Gandalf murmured, and before she could respond in any way he quickly added, "Leave the talking to me".

Callisto attempted to protest at the very rude wizard, but she became distracted by a smoke ring that drifted in their direction, blown by Master Baggins. It turned into a butterfly, no doubt the work of the wizard, and flew back into the hobbit's face, causing him to splutter.

He finally took notice of them then, his eyes darting between her and the wizard with such utter confusion, "Good morning," he said tentatively.

"What do you mean?" Gandalf asked, "Do you mean to wish me a good morning or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning? Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"

The rather odd line of questioning earned the wizard a rather potent glare from Callisto, who found the whole thing unnecessary. She turned her gaze back to the hobbit, who could not look more perplexed if he tried, poor thing.

“All of them at once, I suppose,” he replied. His eyes met hers with a pleading look, as if he was begging her to explain what was going on. Because she didn’t even know, she could do nothing but shrug her shoulders and smile apologetically back at him.

This did not please the hobbit at all. He asked irritably, “Can I help you?”

Gandalf answered, “That remains to be seen. I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure".

Master Baggins' mouth fell open, and his pipe would have gone with it had he not been holding it, "An adventure? Now I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner".

_Little one has his priorities sorted out_ , Callisto thought. It was clear Gandalf hadn't spoken to the hobbit about the quest before this, and she wondered if the wizard had planned everything else so haphazardly. She had a bad feeling about the outcome of the quest if that was the case. 

_Hel's Bells, what have I gotten myself into?_

"To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son, as if I were selling buttons at the door," Gandalf sounded quite offended, and it brought the goddess out of her thoughts. The hobbit was standing on his front steps trying to get back inside his home and away from the odd visitors at his gate.

The mention of his mother got the hobbit's attention, "I beg your pardon"?

"You've changed, and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins," replied the wizard.

_Well, that was quite rude._

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" asked the hobbit, incensed.

"Well you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it. I'm Gandalf, and Gandalf means...me".

"Gandalf," the hobbit said, pondering, "Not Gandalf, the wandering wizard who used to have such  _excellent_  fireworks. Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve. I had no idea you were still in business".

"And where else should I be?" asked Gandalf grumpily, narrowing his eyes at the hobbit.

Master Baggins stammered and sputtered, not having a polite answer for the wizard. He turned his attention instead to Callisto, "What about you? Do I know you? I don't think I've seen you around here before".

"I should think not. This is my first time visiting this place," she answered, thankful that she had a turn to talk. Perhaps she could repair the damage Gandalf had done, "I apologize for not introducing myself sooner, Master Baggins. I am Callisto Apollides of Olympus".

"Olympus," he said with a frown, as if the word left a bad taste in his mouth, "Never heard of it".

"I cannot imagine how you would have. It is very far away from here."

"If it's so far away, how did you end up here in the Shire?"

"I am here at Gandalf's request," she replied, recalling the wizard's earlier instructions, "and I am very glad I came. Of all the lands I have visited, this one is by far the loveliest. And I have to say, Master Baggins, I have never seen a more beautiful garden than yours. I am much older than I look, and I have seen many gardens, so I know what I am talking about".

The look on the hobbit's face was difficult to read. It was like he was caught between wanting to take pride in the compliment he received, and wanting to be irritated that the compliment was meant to butter him up.

The irritation won out, "No, no. Flattery will get you nowhere with me! We do not want any adventures here, thank you. Not today. I suggest you try over the hill or across the water. Good morning," he declared with more authority than Callisto thought such a little thing could possess, and disappeared inside his Hobbit-hole while slamming the vibrant door.

Callisto stared at the door, mouth hanging open in a big "o". The hobbit's reaction was entirely unexpected. Perhaps Odin was right about her losing her persuasive touch.

"I did not know one so small could become so agitated," she said to Gandalf. The wizard merely "hmph"-ed in reply, and opened the hobbit's gate, making his way to the door.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Gandalf didn't respond to the question. Instead, he took the end of his staff and started dragging it across the bottom of the door, and where the staff touched, a glowing mark was left in its wake, and though Callisto had never seen it before, the All-Tongue that all gods are gifted allowed her to understand that it was a letter in the dwarven language of Khuzdul that was the equivalent of the Greek gamma. She assumed it stood for "Gandalf".

As Gandalf walked back towards the gate, Callisto smirked at him, "Do all wizards partake in vandalism, or is it just you?"

"It's not vandalism. It's simply a marker to let the rest of the company know where to meet tonight".

"You cannot be serious, Gandalf," the goddess balked, "The hobbit made it pretty clear that he wants nothing to do with any adventures. I do not think he will appreciate more strangers showing up at his home".

"It's simply supper. It will be good for him. And most amusing for me".

Rolling her eyes, Callisto muttered, "You are terrible".

He chuckled as they walked back the way they came and to the inn where Gandalf said they were to wait for the dwarves. They made their way to a table in the back, and were almost immediately handed mugs of ale by a young hobbit woman. The goddess didn't touch hers right away, she was too lost in thought about the hobbit. He had no idea about the gathering that was about to take place at his home in a few hours, and she felt guilty about the imminent intrusion on such a fussy, unsuspecting creature.

"Gandalf, are you sure it is a good idea to impose on Master Baggins? I do not feel comfortable with this gathering when the host is so adamantly against it".

The wizard huffed in irritation, "I already told you, it will not be a problem".

"So you are going to strong arm him into cooperating," she said flatly.

"I prefer to think of it as introducing him to new experiences".

Sighing in frustration, Callisto ran a hand over her face in an effort to keep herself from smacking Gandalf, and her willpower was fading quickly. "How do you even know he will agree to come on the quest? He did not seem keen on it. He does not even seem like he would be an adequate burglar. It is obvious he has lived a comfortable life and has had no need to steal anything. What makes you think he will be a suitable member of the company?"

"Don't you question me, Callisto Apollides. I was asked to find a burglar for this quest, and I firmly believe that Bilbo Baggins is the right choice.  _When_  he decides to join us, you will see that he is more than he appears".

She fixed Gandalf with a hard look. The situation didn't seem right, but it was clear the wizard would not be swayed. She still felt guilty. There would be thirteen dwarves and her and Gandalf invading the hobbit's house for supper. If his irritation earlier was any indication, then tonight would be akin to the disaster at Pompeii.

Making up her mind then, she stood up and made her way to the bar, ignoring Gandalf asking what she was doing. If they were going to impose on the hobbit, then she would at least try to extend the proverbial olive branch. 

And the best way to do that was with food.

"Can I help you, miss?" asked the same young barmaid who had served her ale.

"Hopefully. Is this place equipped with an oven?"

The look on the barmaid's face was pure puzzlement, "It is, indeed, miss".

Callisto reached in her pocket and surreptitiously conjured a small stack of gold coins, placed them on the counter and said "I don't suppose I could borrow it for awhile, could I?"

 

 

* * *

 

Several hours and several pans later, Callisto was satisfied that she had enough of her dish for everyone to share, grateful she had the ability to conjure food. Callisto's magic had always been limited. She was a lesser goddess, and as such, didn't have the raw power that gods like Zeus or Hera or her parents had. The only magic she could manage were things that were easy to visualize, and fortunately, food was incredibly easy for her to visualize. She could have conjured the completed dish if she desired, but she felt the situation called for something baked from scratch, so she only conjured the ingredients and assembled them by hand.

When she emerged from the kitchen, the bar was considerably more filled than it was earlier. Mainly, eight short men who did not look like hobbits were sitting at the table with Gandalf, and she came to the conclusion that they were the dwarves of the company. They were taller than hobbits, and broader as well. All of them wore braids in their hair and beards, some more elaborate than others, but each one distinct and unique.

"Oh! Callisto! There you are!" Gandalf greeted as she approached the table and set the pans down, "Everyone, this is Callisto Apollides of Olympus. She is the fifteenth member of the company. Callisto, allow me to introduce Óin and Glóin, Dori, Nori and Ori, and Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur".

As each dwarf was introduced, they stood and gave a bow and said "At your service". Callisto returned each bow with a small one of her own.

"It is a pleasure to meet you all, though I was under the impression that 'you all' would be more.  Are there not supposed to be thirteen of you?"

"There are, Miss Apollides, but the others went on ahead of us," answered Dori, a dwarf with gray hair and gray eyes to match, and a labyrinth of braids on his head. 

"Yes, we were waiting for you," groused Gandalf, "It certainly took you long enough to do whatever it was you were doing".

"Do not test me, Wizard," she warned, shaking a finger in Gandalf's face, "There is always time to make dessert".

The dwarves snapped to attention, "Dessert?" they said in unison.

"Is it cake?" said one.

"Is it pudding?" said another.

"It is baklava," she said with a smile, "Something from my home. You will have to save room in your bellies after supper if you want to know what it tastes like".

"Speaking of supper," Gandalf interjected, "I think we should get going. The others are probably wondering where we are".

Cheering loud enough to startle the local hobbits in the tavern, the dwarves followed Gandalf outside into the night. Callisto retrieved her weapons from the corner she left them in, grabbed the baklava off the table, and scurried after the company. 

"Do you need help carrying that, lass? That's quite a load for a wee thing such as yourself," said Bofur, who, along with his portly brother, Bombur, had lagged behind his companions until the goddess caught up.

"I am hardly a 'wee thing', Master Bofur," Callisto laughed, mostly at Bofur's ridiculous hat that was bobbing along with him as he walked, "and I can handle myself and my food just fine".

Bofur let out a good natured laugh of his own, "You hear that, Bombur? The lass thinks she can handle herself and her food just fine".

The ginger dwarf stroked his impressive, braided beard ring, "Is that right, Bofur? I think I could handle the food just fine myself, if you take my meaning".

"What my brother means is if you want what you made to make it past supper, you might want to hide it," said Bofur.

Callisto frowned, "There are eight pans here. That should be enough for everyone".

"Oh, lass, you clearly haven't dined with dwarves before," the brothers started laughing again. Clutching each other in their guffaws, they left Callisto with her mouth agape in their wake as they hurried to the front of the group. 

It wasn't long before they were standing in front of the round, green door of Bag End. The goddess stood next to Gandalf as the dwarves eagerly pressed themselves against the door. One of them rang the bell, and immediately the hobbit could be heard yelling inside about there being nobody home and far too many dwarves in his dining room already. 

"Oh, he sounds  _so pleased_  to have visitors. This affair is going to be  _wonderful_ ," Callisto muttered to Gandalf in spite of the fiery glare in his eyes.

Bilbo Baggins opened his door then, and the dwarves did a convincing impression of falling dominoes into the hobbit's entryway. Callisto ducked down to get a better look inside and was greeted by the sight of a lovely, cozy home lit with soft, golden candlelight. And there stood the hobbit, clad in a patchwork dressing gown, giving the wizard a look that would have cowed even some of the goddess' more intimidating relatives.

"Gandalf," he said with defeated resignation.

The fallen dwarves had managed to right themselves and proceeded to push past a protesting Bilbo, and went straight for the pantry to empty its contents into the dining room. The hobbit stood frozen to the spot where he stood, flabbergasted at the sight before him. Then he shook himself out of his trance, all the while muttering "This won't do at all," and disappeared into the winding halls of his home.

Divesting herself of her weaponry, because that's what civil people do when they enter a stranger's home, Callisto meandered to the atrium. Several of the dwarves were going back and forth between the dining room and pantry like some kind of ravenous assembly line. She had to admit that Gandalf had been right about one thing: this was kind of amusing, but she would never tell the wizard she thought so.

Bilbo emerged from some back room sans robe and dressed in simple clothing more suited to having guests, but once he saw the scene unfolding in his atrium, he looked like he was going to have an aneurysm. Callisto decided this was a good time to sweep in and attempt some damage control.

"Good evening, Master Baggins!" she greeted, kneeling down so she and the hobbit could be closer to eye level. 

He tore his eyes away from his ever depleting food stores, and when his gaze met hers, his expression darkened further, " _You_ ," he nearly spat.

"Yes,  _me_ ," she chuckled, "It is good to see you remember me from this morning".

"I wish I could forget," he mumbled, and Callisto decided it would be best to ignore that statement.

"Look, Master Baggins, I apologize that this was sprung on you so rudely. I brought dessert to help take the strain off your pantry," a string of dwarves walked by, each carrying humongous plates of food, "though I see now that effort was in vain".

The hobbit whimpered, "I'm going to be eaten out of house and home". 

The goddess placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "If it makes you feel any better, where I am from, being an ungracious guest was considered sacrilegious to our gods, and was grounds for execution".

To his credit, Master Baggins only looked shocked for a moment, then he seemed to consider her words, straightened his posture and said, "Actually, that does make me feel better".

Callisto let out a laugh, "I am glad to hear it. Now, is there a place where I can hide these?" she gestured to the stack of pans, "I do not want my companions to eat this before it is time to do so".

"Oh, yes! There's a door off to the left that leads to the study. I don't think anyone will go in there," he pointed towards a door in front of the back hallway.

"Thank you, Master Baggins. I do appreciate your hospitality. Truly," she said sincerely.

He scoffed, "I think you are the only one," he said before storming at the dwarves trying to get them to put all his food back.

Callisto found the study easily, and managed to hide all eight pans behind one of the many stacks of books on the floor. When she was satisfied that dessert was safe for the time being, she turned to rejoin the unexpected party, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she did. In the round doorway stood two dwarves that she hadn't met yet. One was golden-haired and blue-eyed. Nothing really set him apart physically save for his braided mustache. His companion, on the other hand, well, Callisto felt like the floor had been pulled out from under her when she looked at him. His dark hair was unadorned, and unlike the other dwarves, there was barely any beard on his face. A gleam of mischief and warmth shined in his brown eyes, and Callisto was reminded of a similar look on a face that had been torn from her too soon. The young dwarf's resemblance to her dead son was uncanny, and it was like a knife had been thrust into her heart.

"Fíli," said the blond one

"And Kíli," said the one it pained her to look at.

"At your service," they said together.

"Pleasure," she said, though her tone suggested it was anything but.

"Are you the woman our Uncle Thorin has been complaining about?" asked Kíli.

"Your uncle has been complaining about me?" she made a mental note that the boys were the company leader's nephews. 

"Oh yes. He doesn't know why you want to come on this quest," Fíli said, crossing his arms. He looked her up and down, appraising her and her appearance, "He also doesn't believe you come from another world".

_Ah. So that is what these two are curious about_. "He does not believe it, or  _you_  do not believe it?"

"Both, honestly," said Kíli. He and his brother started circling her. It made her feel like a sheep amongst hungry wolves, "It does sound like something out of a fairy story, doesn't it, Fíli?"

The blond one nodded grimly, "Aye, brother, but look at her clothing. I've never seen a woman dress so...strangely before," he reached out to inspect the lapel of her coveralls, but she caught his wrist before his fingers could make contact with the fabric.

"Do not touch me," she warned, voice low and dangerous.

The dwarf had the audacity to wink at her before he continued to circle her.

"Indeed, and listen to her accent. I've never heard anything like it. She couldn't possibly be from any land we know of. Why do you talk so funny, my lady?" the dark-haired one asked. He was barely able to hide his smirk.

Callisto was quickly losing her patience, "Probably for the same you reason you look funny: it is not exactly something I can help," and with that she pushed past them to exit the room, but was stopped when Kíli grabbed her arm.

"Wait! We never got your name!" he cried.

"That is because I have not said it. Now, if you will excuse me," she wrenched her arm away from the young dwarf, leaving him and his brother laughing at her as she headed toward the dining room. Hopefully the other dwarves had finished setting out the food.

"Excuse me, Mister Gandalf, could I tempt you with a cup of chamomile?" she heard Dori ask the wizard.

"No, thank you, Dori. A little red wine for me, I think," he replied.

"You could tempt me though, Master Dori. I could use a cup of tea," Callisto said, poking her head into the dining room. Under normal circumstances, she would have been able to take Fíli and Kíli's mischief in stride, but Kíli's resemblance to Arcas had thrown her for a loop, throwing her off guard and souring her mood. A stiffer drink would have been more appropriate to settle her nerves, but chamomile was a good start.

The gray-haired dwarf smiled brightly, and handed her a cup from the tray he was holding. She thanked him kindly and took a sip of the calming brew, mmm-ing appreciatively.

"This is delicious, Master Dori. Expertly brewed. I am very impressed".

The dwarf's chest puffed out with pride, "Tea is one of my specialties. If you'll excuse me, Miss Apollides, I need to find some wine for Mister Gandalf," the goddess raised her cup to him, and he bowed and walked out of sight. Callisto turned around just in time to see Gandalf bump into a chandelier, and nearly choked on her tea.

"Oh, you hush up!" he said grumpily. He ignored her further chuckles and instead named off the dwarves that were present in Bilbo's home. One name was conspicuously absent.

"He is late is all," said a particularly intimidating-looking dwarf, "he traveled north to a meeting of our kin. He will come".

"Oh, Dwalin! Callisto, have you met Dwalin and his brother, Balin yet?" asked Gandalf. 

"I cannot say that I have," she replied. The surly dwarf simply glared at her. She did her best to glare back, but judging by the unwavering look on the dwarf's face, she didn't paint an impressive picture with her foreign clothing and cup of tea.

"Balin! Can I borrow you for just a moment?" Gandalf stopped an elderly, white-haired dwarf with a simple, voluminous beard. His face was kind, a stark contrast to the gruff, tattooed dwarf, and Callisto found it difficult to believe these two dwarves were related to each other at all, much less brothers. 

"Of course, Gandalf," smiled Balin, who went to stand next his brother, "What do you need?"

"Balin, Dwalin, I would like to introduce Callisto Apollides of Olympus. Callisto, this is Balin and Dwalin. They are close friends of Thorin's," Gandalf declared. Both dwarves bowed to her and uttered the customary "At your service", and Callisto gave a polite curtsy to them in turn.

"This is the woman you spoke so highly of?" Balin questioned. It sounded pleasant enough, but the goddess noticed the slightly pinched quality to his expression. She imagined he must be doubting Gandalf's judgement, "It's nice to meet you, lass!" he said. He excused himself then, shooting his brother a dubious look, and went back to preparing the dining room for supper. Gandalf also excused himself to talk to Dori who had returned with a glass of wine for the wizard. This left Callisto alone with the grim Dwalin, who still had not stopped glaring at her.

"You know, Master Dwalin, no matter how hard you stare at me, I will not burst into flames," she said wryly.

Dwalin's face did not change at all.

Perhaps a change in tact was in order, "What happened to your ear?" she asked. There was a sizable chunk missing from the dwarf's right ear. She hazarded a guess that it happened in a fight and she hoped that maybe he was the type who liked to talk about the battles he was part of.

"An orc bit it off," he said. He took a sip of his ale without breaking eye contact with her.

"Must have hurt," she said.

The dwarf simply shrugged, but his eye contact finally broke in the process. So there was that.

_This is going nowhere_. She took a sip of her tea, "Good talk, Master Dwalin. I look forward to dining with you," she said, turning to go back into the dining room.

The spread on the table was quite impressive. There was chicken and ham and sausages, and plenty of side dishes to please nearly any palette. Gods may not  _need_  to eat, but looking at the feast before her, Callisto definitely  _wanted_  to.

"Supper is ready, everyone!" called Ori, and all the dwarves and Gandalf clamored to the table to grab a seat.

Before following the rest of the group, Callisto saw Bilbo lingering in the atrium looking mortally offended, "Will you not join us, Master Baggins?"

"No, I will not!" the hobbit cried, "I refuse to dine with strangers who invade my home and take my food even though I telling them to put it back!"

"Suit yourself, Master Baggins," if the hobbit wanted to be an ungracious host to match his ungracious guests, then she wasn't going to argue with him.

Supper turned out to be quite a merry affair. The food was delicious, and the drink flowed freely. The dwarves, unsurprisingly, were quite boisterous, but paid little attention to both her and Gandalf. At one point, Bofur tossed a hard boiled egg at his brother at the other end of the table, and Bombur actually caught it in his mouth, sending the company into fits of raucous laughter. The only time they were silent was when they all drank their ale, but that moment quickly passed when an impromptu belching contest happened (which little Ori won, and Callisto had to admit that she was somewhat impressed that a belch at that decibel came out of the smallest dwarf). The meal lifted the goddess' spirits, even though Fíli and Kíli kept trying to catch her eye and winking at her whenever either of them accomplished it.

Eventually, the food dwindled, and the guests at the table slowed their eating. Several of the dwarves started meandering around Bilbo's home to let their food settle, and Callisto took this as her cue to retrieve her dessert from the hobbit's study. They were where she had left them, and, yes, all eight pans were still accounted for, and she was actually a bit excited to share something from her world with her companions. The excitement quickly abated when she emerged from the study only to find said companions throwing Master Baggins' dishes around like it was a game. The hobbit certainly didn't find it funny, as he was shouting for them to stop.

"Excuse me! That's my mother's West Farthing crockery! It's over a hundred years old!" he yelled to no avail.

Callisto stood transfixed. Watching the dwarves work in such harmony with each other was mesmerizing.

Then a plate almost hit Gandalf in the head, making Callisto grimace. They were lucky this wasn't ancient Greece. They would have been executed. The lot of them. Including her.

Clanging and pounding and stomping could be heard from the dining room. "And can you not do that? You'll blunt them!" Bilbo scolded. 

"Oh? Do y'hear that lads?" teased Bofur, who Callisto realized was one of the dwarves clanging the hobbit's silverware around, "He says we'll blunt the knives!"

Then, the dwarves started singing one of the strangest songs she'd ever heard in her long life:

 

_Blunt the knives! Bend the forks!_

_Smash the bottles and burn the corks!_

_Chip the glasses and crack the plates!_

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

 

_Cut the cloth! Tread on the fat!_

_Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!_

_Pour the milk on the pantry floor!_

_Splash the wine on every door!_

 

_Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl!_

_Pound them up with a thumping pole!_

_When you're finished, if they are whole_

_Send them down the hall to roll!_

 

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

 

Callisto moved next to Gandalf, "That sounded suspiciously rehearsed," she murmured.

"Certainly seems that way, doesn't it?" he said with a twinkle in his eye, and she rolled her own at him.

Bilbo pushed his way through the throng in his kitchen, only to find that his dishes were washed, dried, and stacked neatly on the table. The dwarves and Gandalf laughed at his expense. 

The mirth was immediately cut off by three loud knocks on the front door, and Callisto's stomach dropped. There was only one person it could be at this point.

Gandalf's eyes met hers, all traces of mischief gone.

"He is here".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our Greek goddess meets Thorin Oakenshield. It goes about as well as you would think.

During Callisto's life, she had faced countless dangers, traveled to many worlds unknown to her people, and met scores of strangers of different races and religions, some friendlier than others. No matter what had been thrown at her, she always faced it with a cool head and unwavering confidence in her abilities, even after her exile. As a traveling diplomat discovering new things, these qualities were essential to the success of her endeavors.

And now, after fifty thousand years of living, she was nervous. The prospect of meeting Thorin Oakenshield had her heart hammering so hard, she wondered if it was punishing her for some past wrongdoing. But much was riding on his approval of her presence in the company, and it was important she make a good impression.

"Come, Callisto," Gandalf urged, "it's rude to keep our leader waiting".

Wiping her sweaty palms on her coveralls (she didn't even know her palms  _could_  sweat), she momentarily and nervously lingered behind the others as they hustled out of the kitchen to greet their king.

_You are being silly_ , she chastised herself,  _you have been doing this for thousands of years. You have the skills to help Thorin Oakenshield, all you have to do is convince him of it. Get out there and do it_.

She took a deep breath to settle her nerves, straightened up, and, steeling herself, marched to where the company was waiting and stood next to Gandalf just as he opened the door. When she saw the figure standing just outside Bag End's threshold, she felt as if all the breath had left her body. Thorin Oakenshield struck a powerful silhouette. The first thing she noticed about him was his penetrating blue eyes, which were a stark contrast to his long, dark, wavy hair. A cloak covered most of his body, but Callisto could make out parts of his clothing underneath. A fluffy surcoat was just underneath the cloak, and an armored shirt beneath that. His boots were fur-covered like his surcoat, and held together with long, leather straps. When Callisto brought her eyes back up was when she finally noticed it. Strapped to the dwarf's side was the famous oaken shield. It was an actual hewn oak branch, just as Aulë had told her.

"Gandalf," he said with a smirk and stepped inside the hobbit-hole, "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way. Twice. I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door".

"Mark? There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago!" stated Bilbo irritably while storming into the entryway.

Gandalf flashed Bilbo a guilty smile, "There is a mark. I put it there myself".

The hobbit's jaw dropped in shock and indignation. He looked to Callisto, for confirmation or denial, she wasn't sure, but she wouldn't lie to Bilbo.

"He did. I watched him do it," she confirmed matter-of-factly.

His shoulders slumped and his face all but screamed  _How could you let him do that_ , but Gandalf cleared his throat then, and they were brought back to attention.

"Bilbo Baggins, Callisto Apollides, allow me to introduce both of you to the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield".

Her eyes made contact with Thorin's, and she felt rooted to where she stood. So much for her steeled nerves. He also looked surprised, his eyes growing as big as the moon named after her. But then the most arrogant smirk spread across his face. His stare never broke from hers, and he handed off his cloak to his younger nephew without sparing him a glance. Sauntering up to her and the hobbit, the tension Callisto was sensing kept being pulled more and more taut until he was standing right in front of Bilbo.

"So, this is the hobbit," he drawled in his deep voice, looking no more impressed with Bilbo than anyone did with her. He started circling the hobbit, a trait that ran in the family, apparently.

"Tell me, Master Baggins, have you done much fighting?" he asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Bilbo replied.

"Axe or sword as your weapon of choice?"

"Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know," the hobbit hesitated, realizing what was coming out of his mouth "but I fail to see why that's relevant".

"Thought as much," the dwarf turned to the rest of the group, encouraged by their collective mirth, "he looks more like a grocer than a burglar". The company chuckled, and Callisto bristled, not only because the dwarf was ignoring her, he was also insulting the hobbit in his own home. But mostly because he was ignoring her.

"I wield a spear, if you care to know," she called sharply to Thorin's retreating form. He and the others were trying to make their way back to the dining room, but they were going to wait if she had anything to say about it.

He turned around to face her, his face was practically bursting with condescension, "You honestly think you can wield a spear?"

Her eyebrows suddenly became well acquainted with her hairline, "No,  _Kýrie_ , I honestly know I can wield a spear, and a sword, and a shield I have been known to crack a few skulls on".

Thorin's face fell into a scowl. He strode up to her aggressively, invading her personal space, and she somehow kept herself collected enough to not flinch. Their height difference and close proximity forced the dwarf to crane his neck up to look her in the eye, as the top of his head only came up to her chin. It didn't deter him in the slightest, "I highly doubt that. Gandalf has told me all about you. You claim to be an immortal woman, here traveling from some distant world on the other side of the cosmos. And you have somehow convinced the wizard that you will be of use to us. Do you want to know what I think?"

"I have a feeling you are going to tell me regardless of my answer," Callisto sassed.

The dwarf sneered, "I think you're either a delusional madwoman, or you are just a silly little girl who thinks she's on some merry holiday, and I have no use for either of those things," he turned his back on her, stomping towards the dining room.

It was one of those rare instances where Callisto understood why her family had a habit of smiting mortals. Thorin Oakenshield was a piece of work. Obstinate, rude, and entitled in a way she had only seen amongst her kin. 

But there was a reason for that. Losing your home and those you love while being abandoned by your allies would make anyone ornery and distrustful. She knew all too well. It did not excuse Thorin's behavior, but she was going to have to rein in her sarcasm and have more patience with the dwarf if this situation was going to have the most positive outcome possible.

_You certainly have your work cut out for you_ , she thought bitterly.

 

* * *

 

 _Hel's Bells, is your work ever cut out for you_.

They were seated around the table in Bilbo's dining room once again. The dwarves had just concluded a riveting discussion about the details of the quest. It started with a map and a key, and Gandalf revealing that there was a secret passage into the mountain, but he didn't know where it was located. An argument had ensued about how many dragons the wizard had killed, but they were promptly silenced by Thorin, who gave a rousing speech rallying the dwarves to take back the mountain. Callisto had been positively enthralled by the dwarf king. What he lacked in good manners and politeness, he more than made up for in magnetic charisma. His talk of reclaiming Erebor nearly had her cheering along with the others before she had to remind herself that she was not a dwarf and Erebor was not her home. The notion that Thorin Oakenshield could so thoroughly captivate her after insulting her the way he had made her sober instantly, replacing her bright smile with a look far less enthusiastic. Bilbo Baggins was the next topic up for debate, causing the dwarves to devolve into yet another argument about his skills as a burglar. It culminated with Gandalf silencing everyone, in quite a frighteningly way at that, and once he calmed down, listed all the reasons why the hobbit was the perfect choice for a burglar. He vehemently stated that Bilbo had more to offer than anyone knew, including himself.

"What of the woman?" Thorin asked, glowering at Callisto, "What does she have to offer?"

And now the eyes of thirteen dwarves, a wizard, and a hobbit were all on her, making her fidget in her seat.

"Well, I think she is perfectly capable of telling you that herself," Gandalf looked at her with a glint in his eye, something she was quickly realizing was an ill omen.

Looking back at him uncertainly, the goddess had to think quick. How could she explain her background with out revealing too much? Would the dwarves even believe anything she  _did_  tell them? Where did she even start? Either way, it didn't look like she had much of a choice in the matter. Everyone was staring at her, waiting for her to speak.

"Are you going to burst into flames now?" asked Dwalin dryly.

"If only," she lamented.

Gandalf huffed, "It may put some minds at ease if you told everyone a little more about yourself," he urged, and she realized he was probably right.

"As you wish," she acquiesced reluctantly, crossing her arms over her chest. Best get this over with, "What would you like to know?" 

"Perhaps if you started with where you are from," the wizard helpfully suggested, "and a visual may be wise as well," he said with a knowing wink.

Of course. If Callisto's magic was tied to what she could easily visualize, then what was easier to visualize than a simple image?

"All right," she agreed, rolling up the sleeves of her coveralls, "I ask that you all remain quiet. I will need to concentrate".

Holding her hands out in front of her, she pictured her home world in her mind, recalling the continents and the oceans, the mountains and the lakes, and the deserts and rivers. As her memory held on to the thought like a photograph, thin trails of light began to spill from her fingers. They layered and layered upon themselves until a large three-dimensional rendering of the earth was floating above Bilbo's table. Gasps of surprise and awe rippled through the company, causing her to crack a tiny smile.

"This is my world. This is Gaia," she declared proudly, "Some call it Midgard, others call it Earth, but it is my home just the same. Humans make up the majority of the population, but there are small clans of immortals scattered about," she said to explain the presence of the gods on Earth.

With a wave of her hand, the globe flattened into a two-dimensional map, she produced four of them so everyone around the table could get a proper view, "My clan hails from Olympus, in the country of Greece, on the continent of Europe," as she spoke, she highlighted the location of her home, feeling a little wistful as she did so.

"Where is this 'Gaia'?" asked Balin, "I mean in relation to where we are".

Callisto's concentration broke contemplating the answer, and the maps fizzled out into nothing, "I am not sure, in all honesty. I was so excited about coming here to Arda, I did not pay attention to the direction I was sent in," her brow furrowed in thought, "but the universe is quite vast, Master Balin, vast beyond comprehension, so it is safe to say that our worlds are very far apart".

"How were you able to travel such a distance?" Ori was next to question with wonder in his eyes.

"I am friends with a clan of immortals that dwell far to the north of my world. The Æsir, they call themselves, and their home is Asgard. Of all the marvels that can be found there, the greatest by far is the Bifrost, a machine that creates bridges between worlds, so that traveling through the void of space is not so daunting".

Silence fell over the group as her words sunk in. She was aware of how preposterous she must sound to them, and could only hope they believed her nonetheless. But when the lull continued past the point of being comfortable, hope began to leave her. Something needed to be done if she was going to prove herself to these dwarves.

"Come on. Do not be shy. Ask me anything. I will answer any questions you have," she prompted.

There was a hush for a few beats, then Bofur leaned in toward her, a grave expression maring the dwarf's face, and tension mounted as Callisto worried about what it was the friendly Bofur could possibly ask her.

"What is your favorite color?" and the goddess released the breath she had been holding with a relieved chuckle.

"Red," she answered, and the strained mood seemed to lift, and the dwarves engaged Callisto in a session of question-answer in rapid-fire style. Their questions were superficial at first, her favorite food (baklava, and she encouraged everyone to have another slice), ale or wine (it depended on her mood, but usually wine), and other questions people ask when they're getting to know someone new. 

"How old are you?" asked Glóin.

This was a question Callisto was hesitant about answering. Her age had a tendency to put people off, so she quirked a brow a the auburn-haired dwarf and said, "Are you really asking a woman her age?"

"It is required," Thorin growled. Up until that moment he regarded her with nothing but stony silence. "To join us you must be of age to consent, and you do not look of age".

The goddess narrowed her eyes, "And how old are you,  _Kýrie_?"

"I am one hundred and ninety five".

"Then you have no need to worry. I have long been an adult by my family's standards. But if you say it is required, then I am about fifty thousand years old, give or take. Oh, stop looking at me like that," she admonished at everyone's, even Gandalf's, equally astonished faces, "I am not even close to being the oldest in my family".

At the mention of her family, the company collectively perked up. 

"Do you have a large family?" asked Bombur.

"Oh, yes, quite large. I have many aunts, uncles, and cousins," she said, though it was a vast understatement.

"What about siblings," Dori questioned, "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

She nodded, "Yes. I have several half brothers," at this answer, several of the dwarves frowned.

"Only half?" said Kíli.

Callisto gave a brittle smile, "My father was quite prolific in his associations with women, mortal and immortal alike. There were few who could resist Apollo's charm".

The expressions around her could only be described as horrified. "How did your mother feel about such a thing?" Balin said.

Shrugging, she replied, "She did not care," when this did not assuage their confusion, she elaborated, "my parents' relationship is...difficult to describe. They were always close, and devoted to one another, but they were never in love with each other. The only reason I was brought into the world is because they had an agreement".

"What kind of people 'make an agreement' about bringing a child into the world?" Bombur said in dismay.

Frowning, Callisto said, "I agree that it is definitely not traditional, but Artemis and Apollo's situation was complicated, but it is a tale much better told around a camp fire than a dinner table".

"That is all well and good," barked Thorin, "but you still have not told us why we should let you join our company. I am beginning to think Gandalf brought you here as a joke".

Sighing heavily to quell the rising frustration within her, the goddess replied in an even tone, "You want to know what I have to offer? I will tell you. Part of my parents' agreement was taking turns with my care. When I was with Artemis, we wandered the wilds of Greece and the neighboring country of Italy, and my mother taught me everything she knew about surviving in the wilderness.  I can hunt. I can fish. I can track. I can scout. I have keen eyes and sharp ears that make me perfect for night watches. Apollo, on the other hand, taught me skills in basic medicine. Both of my parents and several extended family members taught me how to fight, and I take great pride in my abilities in that area. I have already demonstrated that I can wield magic. My specialty, however, is diplomacy and mediation, due to my extensive traveling and dealing with my family's infighting. I have even been told that I could charm the scales off a snake if I wanted, which might be useful in certain situations," she leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. "Does that satisfy you,  _Kýrie_?"

Thorin's expression had faded into something unreadable, "Somewhat, though I am concerned about your charm, as I have not seen you demonstrate it all night".

_Why, that little--_

Taking a breath to collect herself, she said, "You do not strike me as the type to be easily swayed by a pretty face batting her eyelashes at you".

The dwarf smirked, "I might if the face is actually pretty".

She stiffened when the company chuckled around her, but instead of showing her offense, she just smiled and laughed lightly, "You wound me,  _Kýrie_ ".

"You keep calling me that," Thorin accused, "I want to know what it means".

"It is a word in the Greek language that means 'mister', or 'sir', or 'lord', depending on context. It is how you respectfully address a man of authority, or in this case, a dwarf of authority," she explained.

His face faltered, surprised by her answer, but it only lasted a moment. Soon enough he was scowling again, "Why do you wish to aid us?"

_Because I know what it is like to not have a home_ , she thought, but she wasn't going to divulge that now.

"I have heard the tale of how you lost your home, how no one bothered to help you. Your allies did nothing while your people suffered, and it made me  _angry_ \--no, actually, angry does not begin to cover how I felt when I was told that. When I was informed of this quest, when I was offered the chance to be a part of it, I accepted. You deserve to go home, and I will do whatever I can to make that happen".

If the dwarf was moved, he didn't show it, "You do not even know me. You have no ties to me or my people".

Callisto shrugged, "That does not change the fact that I believe in your cause".

He held her gaze for a long, tension-filled moment, searching her eyes for any lie or indication of an ulterior motive, but he wouldn't find any coming from her.

Gandalf took this opportunity to cut in, "You must trust me on this, Thorin. I would not have suggested you bring her and Master Baggins along if I did not think their presence would be advantageous".

"Very well," the dwarf yielded, "We'll do it your way. Give them the contracts," he commanded Balin, who was holding a pair of contracts for the new company members.

"It's just a summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth," Balin said, much to Bilbo's concern about the last part.

Once Callisto had the contract in hand, she unfolded the long,  _long_  piece of paper and began to look it over. It was more a formality than anything. She'd had every intention of going on the quest, no matter what the conditions, but she figured it would be wise to see what she was getting herself into. Eyes gliding over the document, everything seemed to be in order. It said she was to be a general company member, there to assist Thorin Oakenshield in any way possible to reclaim the mountain from the dragon. If this task was accomplished, each member was entitled to one-fifteenth of any profit. While that sounded fair, Callisto had no use for money. It would better suit the dwarves, who valued it more than she ever would. Once she had a pen in hand, she would amend that section.

In the atrium, Bilbo was muttering the terms of their service out loud. There wasn't a problem until he got to the section on liability.

"Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations...evisceration..." he unfolded a side section of the contract, and upon seeing it, visibly paled, "Incineration?"

Callisto opened the corresponding section on her document. Yep. There it was, bold and written more neatly than anything else on the piece of paper. Whoever drafted it wanted to make sure this part was extra clear.

"Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of eye," said Bofur airily, and whatever color was left in the hobbit's face was gone.

"You all right, laddie?" Balin asked.

Bilbo wavered, "I feel a bit faint,"

"Think furnace with wings," Bofur offered, which caused Bilbo to double over, "flash of light, searing pain, then  _poof_! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!"

Straightening, the hobbit looked woozy. He was clearly not well, and Callisto was poised for his inevitable collapse, her contract forgotten. Bilbo said nothing for several moments, then, just when the goddess thought just maybe the hobbit could pull himself together, he simply declared, "Nope," and promptly fainted.

Shooting up from her seat, Callisto rushed past Gandalf and Thorin to Bilbo's side, "Master Dori," she said calmly as she picked up Bilbo's prone form, "I think we are going to need some more chamomile, if you please," she turned to address the wizard, "Gandalf, help me," she didn't wait for Gandalf to comply, whisking the hobbit off to his parlour. She sat him in a cushy armchair, whispering a spell Apollo had taught her to revive those who had fallen unconscious. Truth be told, it had taken Apollo and her half brother, Asclepius, multiple attempts over several decades to teach her the absolute basics in medicinal magic. The simplest spells weren't much of a problem anymore, but more complex things, like repairing mortal wounds, were more her brother's purview than hers.  

It took a few minutes, but eventually the hobbit came to with a groan.

"Are you all right, Master Baggins?" Callisto asked softly.

Bilbo looked disoriented, "My head," he moaned.

The goddess mumbled another spell to alleviate pain, "Better?"

"Mhm. Thanks," he slurred, then realization dawned on him, "I fainted".

"You did," she confirmed.

"In front of everyone".

She nodded, "Unfortunately".

Someone shoved a steaming mug in the hobbit's face, and when Callisto looked up, she saw that it was Gandalf, looking down at both of them with concern.

"I'll take it from here, my dear. I believe you still have a contract to sign," he said, but Callisto didn't move from her spot in front Bilbo.

"He hit his head awfully hard, Gandalf. I do not want to leave him yet. The contract can wait," she said firmly to the wizard, but the hobbit just waved her off.

"Go, go. I'm fine," he assured. Reluctantly, she stood up, but didn't move to leave. It wasn't until Bilbo yelled "Go!" a little too loudly that she finally shuffled back to the dining room. Many of the dwarves had left for other parts of the house, including Balin, Dwalin, and Thorin. Only Bombur, Bofur, and Ori were still waiting around the table, looking at her expectantly.

"He is fine," she said as she slumped back down in her seat. The contract was still there, only now a pen and ink well were waiting for her.

"I hope so," chuckled Bofur, "he dropped like molten lead".

"No thanks to you," Callisto responded with a hard look.

"Don't be so cross, lass. I was only having a bit o' fun," he said.

The goddess arched a brow, "Frightening Master Baggins so badly that he faints is your idea of fun?"

The dwarf's smile fell, "Well, when you put it like that".

She gave him one last meaningful look before going over the contract where she left off. There wasn't much left, and once she was done, she reached for the pen so she could amend the section on payment, and then finally sign it.

"You know this quest is dangerous?" asked Bombur. He was still sitting at the other end of the table, eating the last of the baklava.

"I am well aware, Master Bombur," she answered while she scratched away on the parchment.

That surprised him enough to get him to stop eating temporarily, "Aren't you afraid?"

"No. Nothing really scares me anymore," she said honestly.

"Not even a dragon?" Ori asked.

She shook her head, "No, Master Ori, not even a dragon".

"You'll have to forgive me, but I find that hard to believe," Bofur said, smoking his pipe pensively, "dragons are the deadliest monsters ever to live".

Smiling slyly, Callisto retorted, "You have obviously never met my Great Uncle Typhon".

Bofur chuckled, "One of those uncles, eh? Drinks too much at family gatherings and makes a fool of himself?"

_He is only the father of all monsters_ , is what she thought. "Something like that," is what she said aloud.

The three dwarves sat laughing for a few moments, and Callisto took the opportunity to sign "Callisto Apollides of Olympus" on the contract where it said "Company Member". The satisfaction only lasted briefly before she felt the familiar snapping feeling inside of her. She'd now made an oath, like she had to Aulë, but on paper this time, and the River Styx would see that she kept her word. It felt like she had just signed her life away, and the feeling made the goddess frown.

"Is something wrong, lass? You got the most odd look on your face," Bofur asked.

Shaking herself, Callisto laughed off Bofur's concern, "I just signed the contract. I am officially part of the Company now".

"Hooray!" they cheered, "You're one of us!"

Callisto folded the document until it was a much more manageable bundle of paper, "Who do I give this to?"

"Balin, I'd imagine. He handles all that," Bombur answered.

"Then I better go find him and give him this," she said as she stood from her seat. Balin wasn't in the kitchen where she checked first, instead finding Glóin and Bifur. Glóin told her to check the parlour adjacent to the kitchen, but she only found Gandalf brooding in a chair that was entirely too small for his large frame. Callisto would have teased him, but his face was so despondent, she didn't have the heart to make snarky comments. She wondered what had put the wizard in such a state, but then she noticed that Bilbo was no longer in the armchair where she had left him.

"Where is Master Baggins?" she asked Gandalf.

He looked up to meet her eyes, "He retired for the night,".

Bilbo's contract was lying on a footstool between his armchair and the chair the wizard was sitting on. There was no signature at the bottom where it said "Burglar".

"He did not sign it," Callisto observed.

"No," Gandalf said, "he did not".

Surprisingly, the goddess felt disappointment wind icy trails around her heart, though she couldn't explain why. She liked Bilbo well enough, fussy as he was, but despite the praise Gandalf had heaped upon the hobbit earlier, Bilbo was still just a sheltered creature who had no experience trekking cross country. He would be safer and happier tucked away in his warm, cozy hobbit-hole.

The attempt at logic and reasoning did nothing to alleviate the weight that settled in her chest.

"Do you know where Master Balin is? I need to give him this," she said, holding up the folded piece of paper.

"I heard him in the hallway speaking to Thorin," he nodded to a doorway to her left. She thanked Gandalf and continued her search for the white-haired dwarf. As soon as she poked her head into the hallway, she heard Thorin speaking adamantly to Balin, and she ducked back into the doorway. Callisto didn't fancy herself as an eavesdropper, but she didn't want to interrupt the two dwarves, and convinced herself that she was just listening for a lull in their conversation so she could speak to Balin.

"I would take every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills, for when I called upon them, they answered," he said, and he sounded so proud, "Loyalty, honor, a willing heart. I can ask no more than that," his voice filled with emotion, causing it to taper down to a whisper. Callisto never expected such tenderness from someone like the bitter, exiled dwarf king, and she had to admit she found it a little endearing. It was a comfort knowing he could be more than grumpy and suspicious.

"You don't have to do this," Balin said, distracting Callisto from her thoughts, "You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains, a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor".

"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me," declared Thorin.

"Then we are with you, laddie. We will see it done," Balin proclaimed.

Somehow, Callisto's heart felt a little lighter. Maybe it was Thorin's determination, or Balin's comforting support of his king, but whatever it was, it strengthened the goddess' resolve. She waited for the two dwarves to resume speaking, but as the moments ticked by and they stayed quiet, she decided it was time to approach Balin.

"What do you make of Miss Apollides?," Balin asked then, making her stop in her tracks, "She certainly has a lot of conviction about coming along".

Thorin scoffed, "It will take more than conviction to kill the dragon".

Balin heaved a great sigh, "Gandalf has a lot of faith in her".

"He also had faith in the hobbit," countered Thorin.

"But the lass is more keen on going than Master Baggins," the white-haired dwarf pointed out.

"I do not trust her".

"Her presence here is odd, I'll give you that, but even if only half of what she said about herself is true, she'll be an asset to the company," Balin argued.

"What if nothing she said about herself is true?" Thorin asked.

Balin sounded like he was getting exasperated, "Then why would she put herself in such danger? It is a very big risk".

"But it is a very big reward. You know how much gold is in that mountain, Balin," said Thorin, and Callisto understood where he was coming from. She wouldn't want to give up her people's gold to a stranger either. Hopefully, once he was informed of the alteration she made, it would alleviate his concerns.

"I do know," Balin agreed. He sighed again, "Maybe she is lying. I don't know. We won't know until we're on the road".

"The road is not the place for her to prove that she is a useless burden. She will not have a place with us then and she does not have one now!"

With a heart weighed down once again, Callisto decided that she'd heard enough, "Then it is a shame I signed this. Now it seems you are stuck with me".

The dwarves' heads shot up when she spoke. Balin was the first to address her, "Oh, lassie! I didn't see you standing there," he nodded to the document in her hand, "You signed it?"

"I did," she replied, handing it over. She could feel Thorin's gaze boring into her, but she ignored it as easily as he had ignored her when he first entered Bag End. Her attention was focused instead on Balin, who had pulled out a monocle to inspect her signature. Callisto patiently waited for him to notice the crossed out section.

"What is this, lass? You rewrote the whole part about payment," Balin asked.

"What?" Thorin bristled, "you feel like we did not offer you enough?"

"Read it to him, Master Balin," Callisto requested.

Balin began, "'Upon reclamation of the kingdom of Erebor, the undersigned forfeits her claim to any profit, and surrenders her share back to the rightful king so he may rebuild his home and ready it for his people's return'".

Callisto allowed a few moments for the words to sink in, then said "Do you find that agreeable?"

"Why?" Thorin asked, eyes wide. There was no longer any trace of anger or contempt. "Why would you do this?"

"You could put that gold to better use than I ever could. It is the right thing to do. So I ask you again, do you find the change I made to be agreeable?"

Thorin and Balin looked at each other, and a silent exchange happened that the goddess didn't pick up on.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Balin asked. 

"Yes. I do not need the money. I would rather it go back to you," she replied. 

"That's not what I meant, lass," he said, giving her a pointed look, "you'll be putting yourself in a lot of danger, and the odds of our success are rather slim".

"That is the second time someone has told me that. It is funny that everyone is trying to convince me not to come, but no one did the same to Master Baggins".

"That is because we need a burglar. We don't need you," Thorin jeered.

"I do not know if you are forgetting, but there is a dragon in your mountain. You will need all the help you can get," the goddess replied hotly.

"And what if you don't make it, lass?" asked Balin. "What if you die helping us?"

Shrugging, the goddess answered, "I have lived a long life, Master Balin, and I am not afraid to die if it comes to that. If my life ends trying to get that mountain back, then that is not a bad way to go, or at least not a bad reason to go. All I ask is that you bury me someplace nice, and if my family comes looking for me, tell them they do not have to worry about me anymore," she conveniently failed to mention that the odds of her dying were closer to none than slim.

Balin and Thorin looked at each other once again. With raised eyebrows from Balin and a sigh of defeat from the dwarf king, Callisto's place in the company was finally secured.

"Then welcome, lass, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield," Balin said with a wary smile, handing the contract back to her, "We are happy to have you".

"After what I heard, I doubt that," she muttered, turning to go back to the parlour to sulk with the wizard, but what Thorin had said nagged at her, and she momentarily forewent rejoining Gandalf.

" _Kýrie_ , I know you do not trust me, and after all you have been through, I cannot fault you for it, but if you cannot ask for more than loyalty, honor, and a willing heart, I can only hope that you extend that sentiment to me as well. You have my loyalty. I do not know how honorable it is to vouch for my own honor, but my heart is willing to prove it to you," she said sincerely. The dwarf looked back at her, the corners of his mouth turned down and his heavy brows knit together. He didn't reply, merely nodded in acknowledgment of her words. She recognized the dismissal for what it was, and extracted herself from the conversation and headed back to the parlour. The wizard was no longer there, however, and Callisto silently cursed everyone in the house for refusing to stay in one spot longer than five minutes.

"In here, my dear," Callisto whipped around when Gandalf called from the kitchen. He sat with his back facing her, the smoke from his pipe curled and danced around him in winding tendrils.

"How did it go?" he asked as she sat down across from him. An exasperated groan escaped from her mouth in reply.

"That well, eh?" Gandalf chuckled.

Callisto didn't think it was funny, "Dwarves are maddening".

"It's a shame Aulë didn't warn you before you came to Middle Earth," mused the wizard.

Checking to make sure none of the dwarves were within ear shot, and seeing most of them had started congregating in the parlour, she dropped her voice to a whisper, "He  _did_ ".

That earned a deep belly laugh from Gandalf. Crossing her arms over her chest, the goddess glared at the wizard and waited for him to collect himself.

"There is something I need to discuss with you," he said when his mirth faded away, and Callisto urged him on with a nod, "Did you get a look at the map of the mountain?" 

"I did," when Gandalf revealed the map and key earlier that evening, and also revealed that he couldn't figure out the secret of the hidden door, he nudged the map towards her in the hopes that she would be able to decipher something in it.

"And?" he prompted.

"It was as you said. The runes say that there is a secret passage, but it says nothing about how to open it," she said.

Gandalf slumped dejectedly in his seat, "I wish it didn't have to come to this".

Callisto frowned, "Come to what?"

"The only other person I know of who can read that map is Lord Elrond of Rivendell," Gandalf answered. When the goddess continued to frown, he explained, "He is an elf. Thorin will not be pleased".

Nodding, Callisto said, "I am sorry I could not be of more help".

"Don't worry about it, my dear. I will think of someway to convince Thorin to go to Rivendell".

The goddess snorted, "Good luck with that".

Gandalf would need it. The elves had left the dwarves to fend for themselves on more than one occasion, causing great hardship and suffering for Thorin's people. It was something she couldn't see any of them forgiving, especially the dwarf king, and she couldn't say she blamed them for it either. On the other hand, the dwarves were determined to reclaim their home, and if this Elrond really was the only person who could decipher the map, then she hoped her companions could cast aside their grudge long enough to ask the elf for assistance to ensure the success of their mission.

"I would have better luck if I had someone to help me. Perhaps someone who knows how to get people to do what she wants," the wizard said with an amused smirk.

The look she gave him resembled the look any woman gives a man when he presents her with an unsavory proposition, "I am the goddess of diplomacy," she whispered, still trying to make sure the dwarves couldn't hear her, "Not the goddess of persuasion. Besides, Master Oakenshield does not know me or trust me. I do not know how you expect me to persuade him to do anything".

The wizard continued to smile, "It takes great skill at persuasion to be a good diplomat".

There was a sarcastic reply just on the tip of her tongue ready to be cracked at the wizard like a whip, but it died on her lips suddenly when she realized the dwarves were beginning to hum. It started softly, with only one or two in harmony, then the others slowly joined in. Though the dwarves sang no words, their deep, melodious voices were full of sadness and longing for their lost home. Callisto was instantly captivated by their sonorous tones. It filled the house and her ears, and her heart went out to them.

_Far over the Misty Mountains cold_

The words, deep and rich and bursting with melancholy, had sprung forth from the illustrious Thorin. The goddess' eyes were drawn to the dwarf king. His own were unfocused, as if his mind was already standing before the gates of Erebor. She looked at the other dwarves, finding the same far-off look in the eyes of the older ones, before settling her gaze back on Thorin and listening to the song. 

_To dungeons deep and caverns old_

_We must away ere break of day_

_To find our long forgotten gold_

_The pines were roaring on the height_

_The winds were moaning in the night_

_The fire was red, it flaming spread_

_The trees like torches blazed with light_

Thorin's gaze met Callisto's once the music died away. She wanted to look away, her cheeks beginning to burn at having been caught staring, but resisted the temptation. The dwarf's expression clouded over with something she couldn't name. In response, she tried to convey all her empathy to him without saying a word.  _I know what it is like_ , she thought, hoping he understood,  _You are not alone_. But Callisto didn't have the power to send her thoughts to others, and she didn't think Thorin would be receptive to the sentiment anyway if it was coming from her.

This quest was not going to be easy. Between a dragon in the mountain and hard-headed dwarves, it would take a miracle for them to succeed. 

It occurred to her that Aulë sent her to Arda to be the dwarves' miracle. 

The irony was not lost on her.                                                                                                                                 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kýrie--sir/mister/lord
> 
> Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The company gets ready to set out, and Callisto has a little "bear" of a problem.

Dawn crept up on the Shire soon enough, filling Bag End with soft morning light. The company of dwarves was strewn about Bilbo's home, all of them snoring away loudly. Callisto was sitting in one of Bilbo's chairs by the fireplace, a book she had plucked from his collection of books laid in her lap. It was about some elf maiden who fell in love with a mortal man and their everlasting devotion to each other. Very dry reading, written by someone who had absolutely no flair for storytelling. It wasn't quite to her liking, but she had become emotionally invested in the characters and begrudgingly wanted to see the story through to the end. Now it was time to set the book down and prepare to leave for the Lonely Mountain. Callisto stood and quietly made her way to bookshelf where she had grabbed the book and carefully placed it back with the other tomes. Then, tiptoeing through the hallways so as not to wake her companions, she nabbed her jacket off a coat peg and made her way out of the hobbit hole and out into the crisp morning air. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, and the temperature would warm up as the day wore on. It was going to be a nice start for their journey.

The smell of flowers and grass filled her nose as she made her way down the winding path to the stables. Her plan was to get the ponies situated and line them up in front of Bag End, that way, the dwarves could simply load them up with their supplies and leave. If her motivation was to prove to Thorin Oakenshield that she wasn't useless, she wouldn't admit it out loud. As she trotted down the path, she conjured a juicy honeycrisp apple into her hand and began munching on it, trying to pull her thoughts away from the dwarf king.

Once the goddess found the stables, she walked down the long aisle and first approached her own horse. The golden beast bobbed his up and down excitedly, clearly happy to see her. She petted his snout in greeting, and he nickered in content.

"Good morning, Aethon!" chimed the goddess, "Are you ready to go on an adventure?"

In reply, Aethon reared his head back and neighed enthusiastically. Callisto took that as a yes. Grabbing his saddle, she fastened it to the horse's strong back, then she plucked his bridle from where it was hanging and situated it on his head. The sounds of the other ponies snorting and nickering could be heard around her, and she turned to assess the little creatures. There were sixteen of them, all of which were interested in the strange woman's presence. With a small smile gracing her lips, she stepped up to the nearest one, a little brown stallion with a black mane.

"Hello, little one. Do you mind if I put your saddle and bridle on you?" she asked the small beast, and he snorted in compliance, so the goddess tacked him up the same way she had with Aethon. This process was repeated for each pony. Callisto would ask each pony permission to touch them, and after receiving it, she would secure their tack. Once everyone was set to go, she attached the reins of Gandalf's horse to Aethon's saddle horn, and then hooked the reins of all the ponies onto the pony before it. When she was done, the horses looked like a long, equestrian conga line. Giggling at the mental picture that evoked, she took her golden horse's reins and began to lead him out into the open and towards Bag End. She got many an odd look on her way, the local hobbits astonished that eighteen horses were following the woman without issue. But one does not grow up as the daughter of the goddess of all wild things and not develop a way with animals, wild or not. 

Once the goddess returned to Bag End, she quickly lined up the horses and tied them to Bilbo's fence.

"What's all this?" Callisto heard behind her, and when she turned towards the voice, she let out an annoyed growl. Standing just outside the hobbit's doorway were Fíli and Kíli, up earlier than their companions and excited to get going on the journey.

"I went and got the horses. I thought it would help us leave as soon as possible," she said flatly, not wanting to deal with the young dwarves so early in the morning, or ever really.

The pair smiled wide at her answer, and disappeared back into the house before reappearing a few moments later laden down with several large packs. Bounding down the little walkway, Fíli and Kíli started loading up the ponies.

"So, Lady  _Callisto_ ," said Fíli, drawing out her name, "It's so nice to know what to call you now, isn't it, Kíli?"

His brother nodded, "Aye, it is. The quest would prove more difficult if we didn't know the lovely name of our lone, lovely lady".

Callisto rolled her eyes, but held her tongue. These were the king's nephews, and if she wanted to stay on his good side, she would have to play nice with his young kin, however irritating they could be. Still, that didn't have to mean that she had to allow their poor attempts at flirting to continue.

"Can you stop?" she said. It was difficult to keep the agitation out of her voice.

Both boys looked at her innocently, "Stop what, my lady?" asked Kíli.

"Flirting. It is making me uncomfortable". It wasn't a lie. Before her exile, she'd been able to take romantic advances in stride even though they were always unwanted. Her quick wits and godly strength had been more than enough to take care of more aggressive pursuers. The only time she'd ever accepted such advances, welcomed them even, had been with Hera. But now, despite still being able to plaster a pleasant smile on her face if a man winked at her and offered to buy her a drink, something about it twisted her insides. Logically, she knew the two boys before her meant no harm, but that didn't lessen the unease that settled in her gut.

Fíli and Kíli exchanged matching looks of smugness, and the goddess braced herself for whatever the dwarvish hellions were going to bombard her with next.

"Oh, you thought we were flirting with you?" Fíli laughed, his voice full of condescending mock surprise, "Then this has been a great misunderstanding!"

"Indeed!" Kíli chimed in, "My brother and I would never flirt with someone like you. We were just being polite. It was never our intention to--"

Callisto held up a hand to silence the dark-haired dwarf and whatever he was about to say died on his lips.

"I do not care what your intentions were. I do not care if you think you were being polite. I do not even care that you also insulted me just now. What I care about is that you are  _still_  making me uncomfortable. So I will ask you again, please, just stop," she hoped that her polite-but-firm tone would actually get through to the brothers. Judging by the cowed looks on their faces, it had.

"I am going back inside," she grumbled, having no desire to spend one more minute with the two dwarves, "I will let the others know I retrieved the ponies. You two can keep loading them up".

"Wait!" Kíli called to her retreating form, stopping her just as she got to the round door, "We haven't had breakfast yet. We're hungry!"

She turned around to face them, her hand on the knob of Bag End's door, "You can eat when you are done," she said with a smirk and ducked inside the hobbit-hole, the sounds of Fíli and Kíli's protests fading behind her. 

"What are you so pleased about?" when Callisto looked to see who had spoken to her, her green eyes met Thorin's steely blue ones. A good night's sleep had done nothing to improve his mood, and he looked just as grumpy as he had the night before.

She smiled at the dwarf, her own mood chipper after being out in the sunshine and putting young dwarves in their place, "Good morning,  _Kýrie_. I am pleased because it is going to be a beautiful day, I went and got all of our horses, and I got your nephews to load them with your supplies. All we need to do is eat breakfast and leave".

"You got all of the horses?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes. I led them all here in a single file line. You should have seen the looks I was getting. It was quite amusing," she replied.

The frown on Thorin's face deepened. He stomped past her, opened the door and peered outside. Fíli and Kíli's grumbles about being forced to work when they could be eating floated into the hobbit-hole. While the dwarf's attention was diverted, Callisto discreetly conjured another apple to eat. After a moment, Thorin shut the door, satisfied that she had told him the truth. When he turned to face her, she had a second apple in her hand, and held it out to him.

"Apple?" she offered, and took a bite of hers.

Thorin only continued to frown at her. He looked behind and around her trying to figure out where she'd gotten the fruit from before meeting her eyes again accusingly.

"It is only an apple," she said innocently. He hesitated a moment before taking the fruit from her hand and biting into it.

"Thank you," he said.

"You are welcome," the goddess replied. "Are the others awake yet?"

"No. I thought I would let them sleep in a bit. It will be one of the last chances we'll have to do so".

"That was generous of you. Would you like me to rouse them now?"

Thorin nodded, "That would be helpful".

"See? I am not useless after all," she said jovially without a hint of the bitterness that suddenly hit her. With a nod, she started making her way further into the house to wake the rest of the dwarves, but a hand caught her arm to stop her.

"It has been brought to my attention that you and I may have gotten off on the wrong foot," he started tentatively. 

Callisto arched a brow, "I would not disagree with that statement".

"It was also brought to my attention that it may have been my fault".

Making no effort to hide her smile, the goddess said, "I would not disagree with that statement either".

The dwarf sighed, and his gaze fell to the floor, contemplating his next words carefully, "You signed the contract, and as long as you are willing, you are welcome in my company. I am sorry for the harsh things I said".

The goddess felt paralyzed from shock. An apology was the last thing she expected from the dwarf king. He seemed more the type to stubbornly believe he was right no matter what. It must have been difficult for him to admit that he was wrong. Maybe there was more to Thorin Oakenshield than she initially surmised.

"Thank you for your apology,  _Kýrie_ , I both appreciate and accept it," if Thorin could apologize graciously, then she could forgive him graciously. "If you do not mind, I am going to go wake up Master Bombur first so he can start cooking breakfast". She turned to walk further into the house, but Thorin's voice stopped her.

"This doesn't mean I trust you".

Callisto turned back around to face the dwarf, "Of course not. We are strangers, and trust must be earned. But remember that this goes both ways. I am willing to prove that I am worthy of your trust, but it will only mean something if you are willing to start trusting me at some point".

"Do you trust  _me_?" Thorin countered.

"Since you are the leader of our little group, I am willing to put some faith in you. Otherwise, you have to earn my trust as well. Now, if you will finally allow me, I have a company of dwarves to awaken".

"I will help my nephews with the ponies. Let us know when breakfast is ready".

"Will do," she said, and Thorin disappeared outside while she ventured further into the house to begin waking up her companions. This turned out to be a task in and of itself. Gandalf was easy enough to wake. A sharp string of knocks on the guest bedroom door was more than enough. Dwarves, on the other hand, at least the ones currently slumbering in Bag End, were quite the heavy sleepers. Some were woken with an aggressive shake, but most were dead to the world unless they were given a swift, hard kick to the side. Eventually, despite groans and grumbles and one sleepy threat from Glóin that he was going to shave her head, everyone was up, moving and getting ready to leave. Bombur was busy cooking breakfast with Callisto's help, and the smell of eggs, bacon and sausage quickly filled the house. It was a wonder the hobbit didn't come out of his bedroom to see what was going on. Perhaps he was hiding in his room waiting for them to leave.

Bombur called to the others that the food was ready, so the goddess went outside to inform the king and his nephews. When she poked her head outside, Fíli and Kíli were standing side by side in front of Thorin, who looked particularly cross. She cleared her throat to get their attention, and their heads shot up in her direction. Judging by the wide-eyed expressions of the young princes' faces at her presence, they had most likely been talking about her.

"Woman, come here. My nephews wish to speak with you," Thorin beckoned.

"I have a name,  _Kýrie_. You are more than welcome to use it," Callisto said as she descended the steps until she was standing before the three dwarves. Inclining her head to address the princes, she asked, "What do you two want now?"

The boys looked at each other uncertainly, then started shoving each other forward to get the other to speak for the pair of them. With a shout from Thorin, Fíli was ultimately chosen.

"My brother and I would like to apologize for insulting you earlier and last night. It was very uncouth of us. We would like give you a peace offering, if you would accept it," he reached into his clothing, and pulled out a knife with a wide blade and held it out to her.

Frowning at it, Callisto said, "I appreciate the sentiment, Master Fíli, but I do not need a knife. The weapons I have are already sufficient".

"You said that you have a sword and a spear. Easy to lose and easy to be taken away from you. You might find yourself in a situation where the only weapon you have is the one you can easily hide," he offered, and she didn't mention that there was something special about her weapons that would make the situation he described unlikely to happen.

"And what will you use if you find yourself in such a situation?" Callisto asked uncomfortably. She was receptive to accepting the boys' apology, but she didn't want to take one of their weapons from them. Fíli was more likely to need the knife than she would.

"I have plenty to spare," Fíli said, a smirk spreading on his mustachioed face.

Getting desperate, she turned her head to address Thorin, "Was this your doing?"

"No, it was not. My nephews are of age and can make amends how they please," he replied. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, glaring daggers at his kin. The knife may not have been his idea, but the goddess got the feeling that he had a hand in getting his nephews to apologize to begin with.

Eventually, she came to the conclusion that there was no way out of accepting the knife. Heaving a great sigh of defeat, she snatched the weapon out of Fíli's hand and unsheathed it to get a take a better look. The first word that came to mind when looking at it was "angular". Geometric designs decorated the handle, and on the pommel was what she assumed to be a royal seal. Twirling it in her fingers a bit, she determined that it had a nice weight and a good balance. Really, the longer she held it and inspected it, the more she realized just how high quality it really was.

"The craftsmanship on this is spectacular," she mused while placing the knife back in its sheath.

"Of course it is!" Kíli chirped, his chest puffing up with pride. "Uncle forged it!"

Callisto's eyes shot up to look at the dwarf, who was still staring down his nephews. She knew that the dwarves of Arda were miners and craftsmen, but she didn't know that a dwarf of royal blood like Thorin was ever expected to learn a skilled trade, "You know how to smith?"

"I had to find some way to feed my family after the dragon destroyed our home," he responded bitterly, and she nodded in understanding, but again felt hesitant about accepting the weapon from Fíli.

"I do not think it is a good idea for me to take this knowing it has sentimental value," she said, and tried to hand the knife back to the blond prince.

"Keep it. I have several other knives that my uncle made for me. Thorin is the best smith this side of the Misty Mountains, and no blade will serve you as well as one made by him," he declared proudly, and Callisto finally acknowledged that she was beaten.

"Then it is an immense honor to be carrying this. I shall take good care of it," she said, and placed her new knife in a hidden pocket in the inside of her jacket.

"Your clothing certainly has a lot of pockets," Kíli observed.

"These clothes were made for war," she explained. "Soldiers in my world were expected to carry a lot of supplies".

Surprised looks were exchanged between the three dwarves before Fíli asked, "You fought in a war?"

"I did. Quite recently. It only ended a handful of months ago. Remember how last night I said that I was in Asgard before coming here?" she asked, and when they nodded she continued, "That was why. Asgard was untouched by the fighting and I needed a reprieve. So,  _Kýrie_ , when you said you thought I was some silly girl on a merry holiday, that is a bit more accurate than I would like to admit, but after the things I saw, a long holiday was definitely called for".

An uncomfortable silence settled between the four of them. The young Durin heirs looked like they wanted to ask her more about the war and the things she'd seen, and she quickly racked her brain for a way to avoid it. For her, the sheer horror of the second world war still clung a little too close to her heart and mind, and she didn't feel up to talking about it at that moment. And in all honesty, she didn't feel like taking the time to explain things like death camps, airplanes, or guns to these dwarves. It would be easier to do it on the road, where there would be more time for talking and where she'd have the opportunity to mentally prepare herself for such talks.

Luckily, speaking more on the matter was something she wouldn't have to worry about any time soon. Just when Kíli was about to question her further, Thorin, who had noticed her panicked expression, fixed his nephews with a look that said  _Now is not the time_. They didn't push, and Callisto gave the older dwarf a small, grateful smile.   

"Now, if you two are quite done buying my forgiveness with well made weaponry," she started with a teasing smirk, "I think it would interest you to know that breakfast is ready," the brothers gave each other a quick glance before rushing through the gate and to her side, making their way up the steps to the door with Thorin trailing behind them.

"How do you say 'breakfast' in your language?" the dark haired prince asked her enthusiastically, desiring to get  _some_  information out of her.

The goddess sighed, " _Proinó_ ," she answered.

Fíli was next, "What about 'brother'?"

" _Adelfós_ ".

Kíli glanced behind them at Thorin, "What about 'uncle'?"

" _Theíos_ ".

"How do you say 'be quiet'?" Thorin snapped, effectively silencing his nephews.

There were a few tense beats and then, " _Skáse_ ," and she was rewarded with chuckles from the princes and a growl from the king.

Turning the knob on the door, she held it open for the dwarven royals. Thorin frowned at her as he stomped inside.

"You know,  _Kýrie_ , if you keep scowling so hard, your face will get stuck like that," she said, the corners of her mouth quirking up at his back as she fell into step behind him. Fíli and Kíli snorted.

"It's been stuck like that for years. He's beyond hope," Kíli murmured to his brother, and it earned him a swat to the head from his uncle.

 

* * *

 

Breakfast was consumed in short order, and after a quick washing of Bilbo's dishes, Callisto and the dwarves were grabbing their weapons and finally heading out the door. The goddess walked up to Aethon, slinging her shield's harness over her shoulders as she did so. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed one of the dwarves slowly approaching her.

"Good morning, Master Nori. Can I help you with something?" she greeted while she tied her falcata's belt around her waist. Nori strode up to her, looking over his shoulder like he expected someone to yank him by the scruff for talking to her. Looking behind him, she spotted his older brother Dori fussing over young Ori, and shooting disapproving looks at the middle Ri brother. Dori didn't move from his youngest brother's side, so Nori deemed it safe to proceed.

"Are you a gambling woman, Miss Apollides?" he asked with a wry smile on his face. 

"Excuse me?" Nori's question was unexpected, and left Callisto wondering what in this world he was talking about.

"I'm taking bets, you see. Me and the boys are wagering on whether the Halfling will show up. You want in?"

Callisto's face wrinkled in distaste, "No, Master Nori, I am  _not_  a gambling woman, and you lot are fiends for doing such a thing," she said indignantly. It seemed the disrespect of Bilbo Baggins was continuing. "Besides, I have nothing to wager. Well, nothing worth wagering anyway".

"Then what's that in your pocket?"

Callisto instinctively looked at the pocket that housed her diadem. She didn't know how the dwarf could tell that something was in there, but it made her eye Nori suspiciously. 

"That is none of your business, Master Dwarf. Now, I would suggest going back to your brothers. If Master Dori stares any more daggers at you, you will bleed to death before we even leave".

Nori turned to check on his brothers before looking back at her appraisingly. They stared each other down before the dwarf just shrugged and said, "Your loss," before sauntering off back to the others, leaving Callisto silently fuming. Making bets and jokes at the hobbit's expense was beginning to get old.

She turned her attention to her horse, who just looked at her calmly, ever the patient beast. She gave him one last pat on his muzzle before slipping her foot in the stirrup and swinging her other leg over the saddle and situating herself atop Aethon's back.

" _Look at her wearing that big shield the way she is. It makes her look like a turtle,"_  muttered Glóin in Khuzdul to his companions, and they twittered in agreement.

" _That green outfit she has on certainly drives that image home_ ," Bofur added.

" _Don't get me started on her outfit. Look at how it hangs off of her_ ," Dori commented. " _She's far too slim to be wearing something like that. It should have been tailored to fit her better_ ".

Dwalin scoffed, " _It would fit her just fine if she had actually bothered to wear armor underneath"._

" _She said her clothes were designed for war. Maybe that's how they're supposed to look_ ," offered Kíli in her defence, and something twisted in Callisto's gut. She hadn't exactly been friendly toward the young dwarf or his brother, and he was sticking up for her.

The feeling was short lived, replaced with amusement when the entire company, save for Thorin who found himself too important for such silly things, turned their gazes to her and gave her a once-over. The corners of her mouth deperately wanted to twitch with humor. If she had been literally anyone else from Olympus, the dwarves would have been severely punished for speaking about her in such a way. Her companions had no idea how lucky they were that it was she they were talking about and not someone more temperamental like Aphrodite or, heaven forbid, Eris. But she remembered what Gandalf had told her about the dwarven language and how it was secret to outsiders like her, so it would be highly inadvisable to reveal that she knew what they were saying about her. So with a great effort, she contorted her expression into something more neutral.

"Are you all well?" she asked, trying to sound concerned but barely managed to keep the mirth out of her voice.

Thirteen identical looks of confusion stared back at her, "Of course we are, lass. Why do you ask?" answered Balin.

Breathing a mock sigh of relief, Callisto said, "Oh, thank goodness. For a moment I thought you were choking on rocks".

"You dare insult the language of our people?" Thorin asked incredulously.

"That is what that was?" Callisto said, and she could no longer hide her smirk. "No wonder you keep it secret".

Sounds of indignation erupted from the company. Several how-dare-you's and well-I-never's were uttered, along with a loud snort from Gandalf. It made Callisto more pleased with herself than she should have been.

"Well, I think you look like a turtle!" shouted Glóin, crossing his arms over his chest. He jutted his bearded chin out at her in a silent challenge.

Callisto considered his words for a few moments before shrugging and saying, "I suppose I do".

"You don't find that insulting?" he asked slowly, as if the notion that he had been unable to ruffle her sat so poorly with him that his brain needed extra time to comprehend it.

"Not really. There are far worse things to compare my appearance to. If your intention was to offend me, you should have said I look like you," there was a moment of shocked silence at the goddess' words, and then the dwarves erupted in laughter. They clapped a grumpy looking Glóin on the back, and Glóin, for his part, took it with as much good humor as a hard-headed dwarf could. That is to say, he took it with a low growl and a murderous look. Callisto flashed him her brightest smile, the one she used on particularly difficult people, and turned Aethon around so she was side-by-side with Gandalf.

"When I told you that the dwarven language was secret, I did not mean you should goad them in your feigned ignorance," the wizard said softly so only she could hear. There was a smile on his face that made the wrinkles around his eyes more prominent.

"Your instructions were not completely clear and were open to interpretation," she countered. It wasn't her fault that the dwarves were so easy to tease. Being alive for tens of thousands of years had thickened her skin against even the most colorful and creative of insults, and she'd been called many, and the company simply did not have that kind of edge. She could hardly be blamed for turning the situation in her favor.

Behind her, she heard the dwarves settling themselves upon their ponies, and Callisto thought that finally,  _finally_ , they were going to head out. Her job among her kin may have been to travel the world and spread the goodwill of her home, but this was the first time she had traveled with a real purpose, with a true, concrete end goal, and the prospect excited her, so she was eager to get going.

"Miss Apollides?" Ori beckoned. His pony was at the head of the group just behind Gandalf and herself. There was a book propped open in one of his hands a quill in the other. There was no inkwell to be seen, but he must have been keeping one somewhere if he was writing. "May I ask you a question?"

Turning in her saddle to smile warmly at the young dwarf, Callisto answered, "Of course, Master Ori. You may ask me anything you like".

"I was just wondering why there's a bear on your shield? Is it the symbol of your family?"

She shook her head. Oh, this was going to be fun to reveal to her companions. "No, it is not the symbol of Olympus. It is my personal symbol, for I am a shape-shifter, and the bear is my other form," she explained. A hush fell over the company, and the only noises that could be heard were the birds tweeting their early morning song, and the spring breeze rustling through the trees.

Ori kept opening and closing his mouth like a fish before simply breathing out an "Oh," and scribbled furiously in his book.

"Why did you not speak of this last night?" demanded Thorin. He urged his pony, the brown one with the black mane, to the front of the group next to Ori. His eyes were ablaze with fury, livid that she would keep something as important as shape-shifting from him.

"It must have slipped my mind," she said, trying to keep herself from wincing at his reaction. "Shifting is not something I do often".

"Show me," the king commanded. "Now".

Callisto looked to Gandalf, who also looked surprised by the revelation. He simply nodded in encouragement, so she turned Aethon around to face the dwarves. Holding her horse's reins in her left hand and shoving her spear's shaft under her arm, she held out her right and started focusing on the shift. Magic of this kind was something Callisto had never had a problem with. It felt as natural to her as breathing, unlike most other types of godly magic. She felt the bones in her hand start to move around and lengthen and widen. Her fingernails extended into long, sharp claws, the palm of her hand thickened into the pads of the paw, and thick brown fur sprouted from her skin and clothing, as she had the power to make her clothes shift along with the rest of her body. Changing her arm from humanoid to bear took no more than a handful of moments.

"This is all I will show you for now. I do not want to spook the horses". A pair of hobbits walked past arm-in-arm, took note of her bear claw, and with faces filled with pure horror, sprinted off down the path. "I do not wish to frighten the locals either," she added belatedly, quickly shifting her hand back to normal.

"Wizard," Thorin addressed Gandalf, and the old man turned his head to acknowledge the dwarf, "when you told me you found another person to join my company, you failed to mention that they were a monster," he sounded furious, the disdain dripped from his voice like venom from a snake's fangs.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Callisto recoiled from Thorin's words as if she'd been physically struck by them. Even though this was not the first time she'd been called such a thing, somehow the goddess still felt hurt by them. Maybe it was because it was Thorin who said them (she didn't want to contemplate the implications of  _that_ ), or that she had hoped she and the king were on better terms, or perhaps it was because she could see the sentiment reflected in the eyes of the rest of the company. Maybe it was a mix of everything.

No matter what it was, it put her on the defense.

"What is your problem?" she asked sharply, her green-blue eyes alight with annoyance.

Thorin's face contorted in surprise for a brief moment, not expecting her outburst, before pulling back into anger. "I am concerned for the safety of my men".

"A fair concern to have, but it is unfounded. I have complete control over this particular ability".

"So you claim," Thorin said gravely.

"You listen here, Thorin Oakenshield. My other form may be monstrous, but I am no monster. Whether as a woman or a bear, I will never-- _ever--_ harm anyone in this company, so if you would kindly extricate your head from your arse, I would be much obliged," she finished waspishly. It must have been a testament to her irritation that she called the dwarf by name instead of the usual  _Kýrie_ , either that or her final comment, because Thorin's brows shot up to his hairline, and some of the anger fell from his features. 

"Does that quell your rage?" she asked, her voice hard.

He could only hold her gaze for a beat before dropping it in submission. It was probably the closest thing she would get to an apology with the other dwarves present. 

"Move out!" he called, digging the heels of his furry boots into his little stallion, urging him forward. The others followed suit, trotting their ponies past her until she was at the end of the line with Ori, and she spurred Aethon forward with a kick.

Ori followed at her side, and looked at her tentatively, but the smile he gave her was warm and genuine, "For what it's worth, Miss Apollides, I don't think you're a monster. I think your ability is rather remarkable, really. It might come in handy later".

Deciding instantly that she would do whatever she could to protect Ori during the quest, she replied, "Thank you, Master Ori. You may simply call me 'Callisto', if you like".

The young dwarf's cheeks turned rosy with embarrassment, "Only if you call me 'Ori', Miss Apolli--Callisto," he corrected.

"As you wish, Ori," she responded with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proinó--breakfast
> 
> Adelfós--brother
> 
> Theíos--uncle
> 
> Skáse--does not mean "be quiet", it means "shut up", Callisto figured that was what Thorin was going for
> 
> These are all modern Greek words that I got from Google translate


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo finally joins the company. Callisto is delighted by this and tells Bilbo two well known Greek myths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I finished typing everything I wanted for this chapter, it was over 8,000 words. I felt like that was a bit long, so I divided it up into two chapters, so that's why this one is a little short.
> 
> I'd also like to take a moment to thank everyone who's been reading and subscribing to this story. It really means a lot to me!

The company hadn't been riding very long. Gandalf, being at the head of the line, had set a leisurely pace for them. They had left the open sunshine of the Shire and had just stepped over the edge of the forest. For the short time that they had been on the road, Ori had been asking Callisto more questions. His interest had strayed from her shape-shifting abilities to Asgard. Or, more specifically, the Bifrost. Callisto had been happy to indulge him, even though she felt a bit distracted, her thoughts drifting back to Bilbo Baggins, most likely still asleep in his bed.

Despite the fact that the hobbit hadn't been very keen on her at all from the moment they met, there was something familiar and comforting about Master Baggins and his home that Callisto found endearing. It was a quality that would have been a nice counterpoint to the boisterous dwarves, and the goddess found herself wishing that the hobbit had decided to come along.

"But how does the Bifrost  _work_? How can a machine send you through the heavens?" Ori asked. He was diligently writing Callisto's answers in his book, telling the goddess that he was the company's scribe. His role on their quest was to archive the events of their journey.

She mentally kicked herself. There was no sense in wishing for something that wasn't going to happen. Including Gandalf, she had fourteen perfectly good companions to talk to. Well, Gandalf, Ori, Dori, Bofur, Bombur, and Balin seemed nice enough. The rest she would have to work on.

"I do not know exactly. I was never told. I only know that Heimdall controls it," she answered.

"Who's Heimdall?"

"He is the Bifrost's gatekeeper. If you need to go away from Asgard, Heimdall sends you there, and brings you back when you want to return".

Ori contemplated her words as he wrote them in his journal. "But how does he know you want to come back?"

Callisto smiled slyly, "You simply call for him, of course".

The dwarf frowned, "That's just silly. If you needed to go back to Asgard right now, how would 'simply calling for him' do anything? He won't hear you".

"Heimdall could hear a cricket pass gas a thousand worlds away. He would be able to hear me just fine," she replied with a snort. "The reason Heimdall is the gatekeeper is because when he turns his eyes and ears on the universe, he sees everything. He hears everything. He can probably hear us right now. Hello, Heimdall! I hope Asgard is well!" she said, waving to the air, silently praying that things in Asgard were, indeed, well and that Zeus wasn't giving Odin too much trouble.

Fíli and Kíli, who were riding just ahead of her and Ori, and who she knew had been eavesdropping, looked at each other with solemn skepticism. Ori himself looked particularly perturbed by her words, but continued to take notes. Chuckling to herself, Callisto found their reactions amusing. Yes, this was enough. She didn't need the hobbit to feel like she had a place in the company.

"Wait!"

Callisto froze at the sound, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"Wait!" this time, Callisto halted her horse to look behind her, and sure enough, Bilbo Baggins was sprinting up to them, contract in hand whipping behind him.

He ran past her, a blur of light brown curls and a maroon jacket, and slowed to a stop when he reached Balin.

"I signed it!" the hobbit declared, referring to the contract, and handed it to the older dwarf to inspect. 

Pulling out his monocle, Balin checked over Bilbo's signature, and finding it to his liking, said, "Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield".

Try as she might to fight it, a wide, joyous smile broke out on Callisto's face.

"Give him a pony," Thorin commanded and the hobbit's face immediately fell.

"No, no. That won't be necessary. I can--I'm sure I can keep up on foot. I've done my fair share of walking holidays. Even got as far as Frogmorton once--AAHH," Bilbo's rambling was cut off by Fíli and Kíli simultaneously grabbing him and plopping him on the nearest riderless pony without ado.

"Would you please excuse me, Ori?" Callisto asked. Without waiting for the dwarf to reply, she dug her heels into Aethon's sides, urging him forward until she was riding next to the hobbit.

"Good morning, Master Baggins!" she greeted, beaming at him. "How wonderful that you were able to join us!"

He smiled back at her, hopefully holding her in a higher regard than he did the night before, "I--uh--I'm happy to be here".

A feeling of contentment washed over her. They had their burglar. The company was now complete.

 

* * *

 

"Can I ask you something?" the hobbit asked Callisto. He had been glancing at her sideways since joining them, looking like he didn't know how to say whatever was on his mind.

The goddess gave a great sigh, "Everyone keeps asking me if they can ask me things when I would much prefer if they just got on with it and asked me what they mean to ask". She tried to sound stern, but the wide-eyed look the hobbit gave her caused her to twitch the corners of her mouth up.

Flushing all the way to the tips of his pointed ears, Bilbo gave a small "Sorry" and Gandalf, riding next to Bilbo on his other side, chuckled to himself.

"I was just wondering," Bilbo began, "last night when you said bad guests in your world can be executed, were you serious or were you just trying to make me feel better?"

Callisto quirked an eyebrow at him, "Both. And I think it bears saying that bad hosts could also be executed".

Jaw dropping, Bilbo said, "Seems a bit harsh".

"Well, it was something that was done in ancient times thousands of years ago. It is not done so much now".

"But... _why_?"

"It was an ancient concept of hospitality called  _Xenía_. It was believed that our gods would disguise themselves as mortals and seek refuge in the homes of men as a test. If the mortals were kind, they were rewarded. If they were ungracious, well, not only would the gods punish the mortal who wronged them, they would bring their retribution down on whole villages and towns. So if you were a bad guest or host, things would not end well for you".

Some of the color drained from Bilbo's face as he listened to her speak. "Do yo--do you know anyone that happened to?"

"I do," she answered with a twinkle in her eye. "Are you sure you want to hear the unpleasant details?"

"We do!" said Kíli from behind her. She rolled her eyes and bit her tongue to keep herself from saying something she might regret. If someone wanted to hear the stories of her home, who was she to deny them?

Looking to Bilbo, and seeing he was also waiting for her story, she began, "His name was Sisyphus, and he was the first king of Ephyra. Sisyphus was a clever and ambitious ruler, but he was also cruel and deceitful. He was notorious for violently murdering guests who came into his home and taking great pleasure in it".

"Did no one do anything?" asked Bilbo, shocked that a king would do such a thing.

"Not at first. He was the king, and his people were afraid of him".

"What happened to him?"

"At some point he was stupid enough to say that he was more clever than Zeu--Jupiter, the king of our gods," Callisto said, realizing mid-sentence that she wouldn't be able to talk about her family as both her family and as gods without giving herself away. Thank the Romans that most of her family had two sets of names. "So Jupiter sent Mors, the personification of death, to...collect Sisyphus. But Sisyphus was still a clever man, so he asked Mors to show him how the chains that were brought to restrain him worked, and while Mors was showing him, Sisyphus tricked Death and chained him instead and escaped. With Mors restrained, no one was dying, so Jupiter sent his messenger, Mercury, who was clever and tricky himself, to drag Sisyphus to the underworld and face his punishment".

"What did they do to him?" asked Fíli.

"His soul was damned to Tartarus, a literal hell, where he is forever tasked with rolling a stone up a steep hill and just when he gets to the top, the rock rolls out of his grasp back to the bottom, leaving him in a perpetual state of frustration and hopelessness".

"So his arrogance eventually led to his destruction," said Gandalf, who had been quietly listening to her story with intrigue.

"Indeed, and the world was a better place when he left it," Callisto said darkly.

They rode in silence for some time after that. Well, she rode in silence. Bilbo had started talking Gandalf's ear off about how un-hobbit like it was for him to be running out his door. Very unlike a Baggins, and he lamented how his family would feel about him right at that moment. She wondered how he would feel if he knew her family didn't even know she had left to come here.

A pouch of something whizzed past her head, startling her, and then another in short succession.

"What's that about?" Bilbo asked Gandalf.

"They took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up," Gandalf said, and then with a glint in his eye, he added, "Most of them bet that you wouldn't".

The hobbit looked at the wizard with a contemplative look, "And what did you think?"

Gandalf hesitated suspiciously for a moment, but then another pouch flew through the air and the wizard caught it easily in one hand. With a chuckle, he said, "My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second".

When Bilbo turned his head to Callisto, she already knew he was going to ask her the same question, "Before you ask, Master Baggins, I did not partake in the wagering, for I have nothing to wager".

Bilbo considered this for a moment, "What if you did?"

The goddess felt something akin to guilt come over her, "Then I am loath to admit that I would have been several coins lighter. But I will say that I am happy I was proven wrong," she thought that the hobbit would be disappointed in her for doubting him, but she was pleasantly surprised to see a little smile on his face. The fact that he did show up impressed Callisto beyond words. It must have taken a lot of courage for someone like him to decide to give up his luxurious life to join a troupe of dwarves he didn't know to reclaim a home that wasn't his. Callisto made up her mind that, along with Ori, she'd keep an eye on Bilbo Baggins and do what she could to keep him safe.

"Ah-choo! Oh, all this horse hair. I'm having a reaction," the hobbit fidgeted in his saddle, looking for something. "No, no. Wait, wait, stop! Stop! We have to turn around!"

"What on earth is the matter?" Gandalf asked irritably.

"I forgot my handkerchief," the hobbit stated. A giggle rose up and out of Callisto. How ridiculous! They were on a journey to take on a dragon, and this little creature was worried about a handkerchief!

"Here," Bofur called, and ripped a patch off of his clothing. "Use this," and he tossed it to the hobbit.

Bilbo looked at the piece of cloth as if it were going to eat him.

"Oh,  _paidí mou_ ," she said with another giggle.

"Move on!" called Thorin at the head of their group, and the dwarves continued forth.

"You’ll have to manage without pocket-handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach our journey’s end. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire, but home is now behind you; the world is ahead," Gandalf chided, and Callisto couldn't help but agree.

They traveled all day without any breaks. Callisto didn't mind so much, but Bilbo certainly did. Unused to riding a pony, and apparently very used to eating several large meals a day, the hobbit was quite vocal about his state of general discomfort. After a while, Gandalf excused himself to head back to the front of the group, saying something about not wanting Thorin to get them lost, but Callisto knew that he just didn't want to listen to Bilbo complain anymore. The goddess was tempted to try and conjure something for him to eat, but with Fíli and Kíli riding behind them listening and watching her, there was no way to do it discreetly, and so Bilbo Baggins would have to suffer until they stopped for the night, leaving the goddess and the hobbit to converse with each other.

In an effort to distract the hobbit from his misery, Callisto asked him about the Shire, about Bag End, about hobbits in general, and he was more than happy to tell her. Once he started talking, he didn't stop for hours. Callisto was delighted to discover that he was an excellent conversationalist, engaging and charming. More than once he had her laughing at a story about a relative, especially when he told her about his cousin Lobelia and how she was on some sort of crusade to steal all his cutlery.

"If you think that is bad, my Uncle Hermes once stole fifty cows from my father when he was still but a child. He caused quite the uproar," she said, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

Bilbo let out a bark of laughter, "Fifty cows? My, my, that does put my silverware to shame".

"That is not even the worst of it! When my grandfather got wind of what happened and tracked Hermes down, he asked if it was he who stole the cows. You want to know what my uncle said?"

"What?" the hobbit asked with amusement twinkling in his earthy eyes.

"'How could I steal the cows, Father? I am naught but a young child!' But my grandfather, Zeus, saw right through him, and made him give the cows back to my father. He made Hermes promise to never cause trouble like that again, and for the most part, he has kept that promise. Zeus could see how clever his young son was, so when Hermes reached adulthood, he was made Zeus' herald and messenger," she told the hobbit. She remembered how angry Apollo had been with his younger brother at first, but Hermes had atoned for the indiscretion by gifting Apollo the lyre, and any animosity between the two brothers quickly abated. Callisto had found the scenario hilarious, thinking the notion of her father tending cows to be ridiculous. He was a patron of the arts, not a cattleman. But Asclepius just  _had_  to resurrect Hippolytus, and Zeus just _had_ to kill him for it, and Apollo just _had_ to kill the Cyclopes in retaliation, and Zeus just _had_ to punish Apollo by making him serve the king of Thessaly for a year who made Apollo tend to his cows. It was this incident with said cows that made her seek out her uncle, and even though he was so young at the time, they had gotten on instantly, and it was the start of their friendship.

"Herald? I thought only people like kings had heralds," Bilbo said with a chuckle at her story. Callisto coughed uncomfortably, causing the hobbit to look at her with an expression of shocked dawning realization.

"Your grandfather is the king?"

"I will neither confirm nor deny that statement".

"He is, isn't he?"

"Keep it down, will you?" she scolded, not wanting the others to hear.

"You're a _princess_ ," he breathed in awed reverence.

" _Aposiopó_!" she hissed, and suddenly felt eyes on her. Looking up, her gaze locked with Thorin's all the way at the front of the group, a deep frown on his face. Not wanting to give him the impression that anything was amiss, she smiled kindly at him at inclined her head respectfully. He frowned harder, if that was possible, and shifted his gaze over to Dwalin, riding further up the line. Digging his heels into the sides of his pony, Dwalin urged his horse forward until he was at the king's side. Callisto watched them speak, too far back to really hear what they were saying. They threw a look her way that she didn't like at all. She didn't think either of them had heard Bilbo's revelation, but she had a sinking feeling nonetheless.

It was something she would have to worry about later though. She still had a wide-eyed hobbit staring at her like he expected her to devour him or something equally ridiculous.

"What?" she snapped, feeling uncomfortable under the hobbit's scrutiny.

"Why didn't you tell everyone you're a princess?" he questioned.

"Because it is not so cut and dry. My status is more complicated than that," she explained. Narrowing her eyes at him, she continued, "And you were not so surprised by being in the presence of dwarven royalty. I do not know what is so special about me".

"They aren't from another world," Bilbo pointed out, and Callisto had to concede that point.

"Fair enough".

A silence fell between them as they continued to ride, with Bilbo sending cautious glances her way from time to time.

"Do you have something to say, Master Baggins?" she asked, arching a brow at the hobbit.

His cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink, "I have another question for you".

"Oh?" At least it was a step up from asking her if he could ask her a question.

"Why is there a bear on your shield?"

She would be lying if she said the many faces Bilbo Baggins made as she explained it to him weren't the funniest thing she'd seen in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paidí mou--my child; it is used as a lighthearted admonishment between people regardless of their relation to each other
> 
> Aposiopó--hush up


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The company makes camp for the night and the dwarves find out more about Callisto's background

Thorin finally called for them to stop for the night late in the afternoon. Everyone groaned in gratitude, being quite sore from riding all day. That is, everyone except Callisto, who, being a god, didn't tire out or get sore from riding a horse, so she nimbly dismounted Aethon, completely unaware of the envious glares she was getting from her companions, and led him to the rest of the ponies grazing on the other side of the clearing they were camping in for the night, dropping her weapons as she did so. Some of the dwarves were busy getting a fire started so Bombur could cook their evening meal. As she walked over to the group to help the company's cook, she could still sense Thorin and Dwalin watching her. She did her best to pay them no mind, hoping they'd find something more interesting to occupy their time.

Callisto came up next to Bombur and asked, "Do you need help with anything?"

The portly dwarf smiled warmly at her, "Those carrots and onions could use chopping, if you don't mind".

"I do not mind at all, Master Bombur," she replied, and he handed her a cutting board and a knife, and then piled the onions and carrots on top. She plopped herself down next to Bilbo and Gandalf, and set to work. The hobbit jumped at the sight of her, still a little cautious of her after finding out about her shape shifting ability. After seeing that she wasn't going to spontaneously shift and eat him, he finally settled down.

As she was cutting the vegetables for the stew, Callisto noticed out of the corner of her eye that Fíli and Kíli were sitting with their uncle and Dwalin. All four of them shooting odd looks at her. She came to the conclusion that something was going to happen, whether they were going to say something, or do something, she wasn't sure, but the goddess was almost certain that there was going to be some sort of confrontation that night.

"Can anyone else in your family--" Bilbo made a vague gesture at her, "--do what you do?"

"We all can," she replied. "My mother can shift into a deer, and my father could shift into a wolf. My grandfather can shift into whatever he wants".

"Is that why he's the king?" Bilbo asked with a mischievous smirk.

Callisto gave him a  _look_ , "My grandfather is the king because he's old and powerful," and then she muttered under her breath, "And he castrated his father". Thankfully, Bilbo didn't catch that.

The vegetables were chopped in short order and added to the stew. When the goddess made to sit back with Bilbo, Dwalin shot up and intercepted her.

_Wonderful. Here we go_ , she thought.

"Come with me, lass. We need to start your training".

Well, that wasn't at all what she was expecting. Furrowing her brow, she uttered, "I beg your pardon?"

"I'll be training you to fight," said Dwalin.

Callisto scoffed, "I already know how to fight, Master Dwalin. I told you that last night".

The dwarf smiled patronizingly at her, "I don't think so, lass. Your weapons have no sign of wear on them. No scuffs or scratches. They look freshly forged. I'm guessing they are more ceremonial than anything," before she could recoil, he grabbed her hand, pushing up the sleeve of her jacket and coveralls. "And you have no scars on your hands or arms. Your skin is as smooth as a wee babe's bottom. I'd wager my life that you've never seen a day of fighting. Perhaps where you're from,  _princesses_  don't need to fight, but here, you'll have to carry your weight if we need to defend ourselves".

Despite ending up at the wrong conclusion, Callisto couldn't help feeling impressed by Dwalin's observational skills. Had she been presented with the same evidence that he had, she would have thought the same thing.

A clamor rippled through the camp at Dwalin's words. Several dwarves could be heard whispering "She's a princess?". Her eyes shot to where Fíli and Kíli were standing. They looked quite pleased with themselves, making clear that it was they who revealed her royal background. If she ever got her hands on them, she was going to slit their kneecaps and have Heimdall send them to Niflheim. Thorin, when she shifted her gaze to him, had an unreadable expression on his face, but Callisto assumed he was most likely irritated with her.

"Come," Dwalin beckoned again, "bring your weapons. I want to have a better look at them. See what we have to work with".

She smirked at the warrior, "You will not be able to".

Dwalin halted and turned to her, "And why not?"

"There is an enchantment upon my weapons. Only I can wield them," she said plainly.

The warrior's face twitched, "Begging your pardon, lass, but that seems a bit fanciful to me. Sounds like you're trying to weasel your way out of learning to fight".

"Just because it sounds fanciful makes it no less true. Like Master Fíli's weapons were forged by his uncle, so my weapons were forged by my uncle, by Hephaestus, the smith of my people, and the best smith in Gaia. He was forging my weapons during an incident with my Uncle Hermes in which he played a joke on my father," she turned to give a meaningful look to Bilbo, who was watching the exchange with interest, but he cracked a little smile when she mentioned the story she had told earlier, "I went to Hephaestus and asked him to do the enchantment as a precaution in case Hermes tried to play a trick on me, and Hephaestus did. Now I have weapons that an enemy cannot take from me or use against me. It has come in handy over the years," she gave a cheeky grin to Fíli, who had insisted on giving her his knife in case someone took her other weapons.

"Prove it," Thorin growled. He had come forward to stand beside his friend. "Prove that what you say is truth".

"As you wish,  _Kýrie_ ," she said with a flourished bow. She walked back to where she had left her weapons, grabbed all of them, and walked back to the waiting dwarves. Setting her spear and sword on the ground next to Bilbo, she took her shield in both hands and stood in front of Thorin and Dwalin.

"See how easy it is for me to throw this around?" she said, all the while spinning her shield in the air to demonstrate. She caught it mid-air and set it on the ground in front of the two dwarves, strap-side up.

"Go ahead," she said, a challenge in the tone of her voice. "Lift it".

The two dwarves looked at each dubiously, but Thorin eventually urged Dwalin on with a nod. He slipped one of his large, tattooed hands around the straps, and gave a great tug.

The shield didn't budge at all.

Taken by surprise, Dwalin just stared dumbfounded at the strap in his hand. Then his face hardened into an expression of determination, and he grabbed the other strap and heaved with all his strength, but his effort was in vain.

"Let me try!" Kíli shoved Dwalin out of the way and took hold of her shield's straps, but as Callisto expected, he was also unable to pick up her shield. Fíli and Thorin also took a turn, and subsequently failed. By this point, the interest of the whole company was piqued, and each dwarf tried his hand at the task. They even roped Bilbo into an attempt. Callisto stood off to the side by Gandalf, keeping a hand over her mouth so she could stifle a laugh. The wizard simply looked on with vague disinterest, puffing contemplatively on his pipe, but the goddess could see that there was the barest hint of amusement in his cloudy grey eyes.

When her companions resorted to having several of them take hold of her shield at once and heave with all their might, she decided that they had suffered long enough.

"All right! All right! My friends, I think my point has been made," she said. She strode up until she was standing next to her shield, and then,  with a mischievous half-grin, she stomped on her shield's rim with her sturdy combat boot, flipping it into the air. At the apex of its ascent, Callisto deftly thrust her arm through the straps.

Then, flashing the most smug grin she could muster, she addressed Dwalin, "I am ready to begin my training".

Dwalin and Thorin gave looked at each other like two people do when they realize they've made a big mistake, "I'm starting to think that won't be necessary".

The goddess' eyebrows shot up in mock surprise, "Oh, but you were  _so_  adamant! And after thinking about it, I have decided that you are right. I am in  _dire_  need of combat training. And who better to teach me than an  _expert_  like you?" 

"You've made your point, lass," Dwalin said flatly, sounding like he was trying to suppress his annoyance. "Bring your sword. We'll spar instead".

Nodding to herself in satisfaction, Callisto turned to put her shield down with the rest of her things. The moment her back was to the dwarves, a war-like cry rang through the clearing. The goddess instinctively braced for impact, and when a great weight landed on her back, she used Dwalin's momentum to pitch him over her shoulder and send him careening towards a nearby tree a few feet away. He gave an eloquent "Ack!" as he made impact with it, and crumpled to the ground with a groan. Everyone let out cries of concern, and Thorin and Kíli shuffled over to him to give Dwalin a hand up.

In only took a few swift strides until Callisto was grabbing the bald dwarf by his furry pauldrons and effortlessly lifting him until he was eye level with her and slamming his back against the tree.

"What in the Nine Realms was that?" she demanded in irritation.

He didn't answer her. His watery eyes looked back at her with a combination of defiance, shock, and embarrassment.

Realization dawned on her, "You wanted to prove I was lying," a humorless laugh escaped her lips, "Would anyone else like to have a go at me?" she said, addressing the whole company. "Or have I  _actually_  proven my point this time?"

The company looked at her with apprehensive expressions on their faces. They didn't say anything. They didn't even move.

Callisto leaned in to Dwalin's ear, and in a low tone, whispered, "If you  _ever_  touch me again without my leave, I will sever the tendons in your heels and throw you into a cesspit. The same will be done if you insult my fighting skills again. Do we have an understanding?"

A hand on her arm diverted her attention. She looked down and saw Thorin gazing back at her with a soft, cautious expression.

"Put him down, Miss Apollides," Thorin commanded. His tone was quiet and gentle, like she was a berserker that needed to be talked down from battle-fury.

Slowly, and with great care, the goddess set Dwalin down on his feet, "You are lucky that I do not wish to collect your wager, Master Dwalin". If Dwalin was unnerved by her threats, he didn't show it, his face hard and emotionless.

She gave him one final glare before turning to face the company, her posture rigid and defensive.

"For future reference, if any of you have doubts about something I have said, or if you simply wish to satisfy your curiosity about me, all you have to do is ask. Easy as that. Just  _ask_ ". 

"If it's as easy as that, then I want to know why you did not think it was important to mention that you are royalty," Thorin asked obstinately, moving purposefully up to her and invading her space once again. Instead of taking a step back like she wanted, she placed a hand on Thorin's chest and gently pushed him back to a more appropriate distance, shooting him a pointed look as she did so.

"It is true," she started slowly, trying to figure out how to explain her pre-banishment status in a way that they would understand, "my grandfather is the king of my people. If you define 'princess' as a direct female descendant of the king, then, yes, I am a princess. However, if you define it as a woman who is treated as a princess, addressed as princess, raised as a princess, then, no I am not. The only people in my family with royal titles are my grandfather and his wife, the rest of us do not. Besides council meetings every few decades, my kin are left to their own devices. We have roles, jobs to fulfill for my grandfather. Mine is as a diplomat, ambassador, and occasional mediator. My being here is my job. It is what I  _do_. So whatever reservations and doubts you have about my status can be done away with".

"You should have said something," the dwarf king scolded, but the edge in his voice had softened somewhat.

"I did not think it was worth mentioning".

"Is there anything else about you that you think is not worth mentioning?" he asked.

Callisto snorted in a very unprincess-like way, "Oh, there are many things,  _Kýrie_ , and if you think you are entitled to know all of them so early in our friendship, you are sorely mistaken".

The dwarf king looked absolutely repulsed by her statement, "We are not friends," Thorin shot back angrily.

The goddess' face fell ever so slightly. How silly of her to think that just because of an apology on Thorin's part, that it signified the start of a friendship.

"You are right," she conceded, "I suppose we are not". She plastered on a humorless smile, and sat back down between Bilbo and Gandalf, feeling absolutely done with dwarves.

Bilbo gently nudged her with his elbow, "He really grows on you, doesn't he?"

"Oh yes, like an invasive species of fungus," she said flatly, then paused, "wait, do you mean the king, or his bodyguard? No, no, they are both like a fungus".

"I think you handled yourself quite well, my dear. You left little doubt about your qualifications," Gandalf offered in an attempt to soothe her frayed nerves.

Running a hand over her face, Callisto muttered, "I am an ancient, immortal woman. I should not have to deal with this nonsense".

Bilbo let out a melodious laugh, "At least you aren't the only one Thorin doesn't like," he made a vague gesture at himself in a self-deprecating fashion, "and you can fight. You're prepared for a life on the road. I'm--well, I'm not".

"You will find your feet soon enough, Master Baggins," Callisto assured, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder, "and you have me here to look out for you".

Bilbo beamed up at her in appreciation, "You know, if you and I are going to be friends, you should probably just call me 'Bilbo', don't you think?"

Callisto was rendered speechless for a few moments before she found her words again. It seemed little Bilbo was full of surprises. "Yes, you are right, Bilbo. I should".

The hobbit gave her a little smile before commenting on how hungry he was, which led to a conversation about hobbit food and Bilbo complimenting Callisto on her baklava and could he possibly have the recipe please.

Before they knew it, supper was ready. Bilbo was kind enough to get bowls for both of them. Bombur's stew was surprisingly delicious for being road food, and the rotund dwarf blushed when Callisto complimented him on it. When everyone was finished with second (and in some cases, third) helpings, the goddess volunteered to rinse out the wooden bowls and spoons in a little stream nearby. Once she came back to camp, a hush fell over the company and the eyes of the dwarves were on her as she approached Bombur to give him back the now clean dishes. 

"Why is everyone staring at me?" she questioned apprehensively.

Whispers rippled throughout the group in Khuzdul, but Callisto couldn't make out anything. But as soon as it started, they quieted and Ori was tenatively shuffling towards her as if he was trying to approach a trapped animal.

"Callisto, we were wondering if, maybe, if you're feeling inclined, you could tell us a story from your world?"

"And that warranted hushed whispers from all of you?" she said with an arched brow.

"None of us wanted to be thrown into a tree," Ori replied with a sheepish smile.

Callisto let out a soft snort, "Unless you ask someone for a story by jumping on them when they are not expecting it, you have nothing to worry about. Now, what kind of story would you like to hear?"

"You did say that your ma and pa's story is one better told around a camp fire," Bofur suggested, lighting a pipe he had just stuffed with tobacco.

Contemplating this for a moment, Callisto nodded and said, "I did," and she stood up before the group. She scanned her eyes over the crowd, seeing everyone but Thorin and Dwalin looking at her in eager expectation. The other two, while not looking particularly excited, did look mildly interested, and so she began the tale.

"Our story begins long ago on the Greek island of Delos at a time when the race of men was still trying to get a foothold in the world. A beautiful immortal woman named Leto gave birth to an equally beautiful baby girl named Artemis. From a very young age, little Artemis was adventurous, bright, independent, gutsy, brave, and knew exactly what she wanted out of her life. She wanted to wander the wilderness amongst the animals with a bow and arrow and a knee length tunic so she could hunt, and she also wanted to be the protector of young girls and women in childbirth. Most importantly, she wanted to always remain a maiden, for retaining her independence was vital to her, and she never wanted to be beholden to any man. So, when she was barely out of her toddler phase, she prayed to Jupiter, the king of our gods, and wished for these things from him. Jupiter smiled down upon the young child and said, 'You are quite young to be wishing for such things. Pray to me again when you are fully grown, and I will see about granting your requests'. He did, however, gift her a bow and quiver, and she practiced her archery every single day until she became an expert, and then she practiced even harder to prove to Jupiter that she was serious about her desires.

"The day came when Artemis reached her maturity, and so she prayed once again to Jupiter, asking for the same things she did when she was a child. Jupiter told her, 'You have become an extraordinary woman, and I am willing to grant your wishes, save for one. If you truly wish to be the protector of women in childbirth, then I believe you should go through childbirth at least once to know what it is like'. 

"Artemis protested, of course. 'I do not wish to bind myself to any man, and there is no way to have a child and remain chaste. Can I not simply learn how to be a proper midwife?' but Jupiter would not be swayed. He said, 'Nothing else will satisfy me. As for your maidenhood, I will father your child, for I am the king and most powerful of the gods, and I can sire children without even laying with a woman, if I wish'. Now, you would think that would have put Artemis' mind at ease, but there was one little problem: Jupiter's wife and queen, Juno, who was notorious for punishing women who had affairs with her husband. So Artemis panicked and fled. She decided that if having a child was the only way to get Jupiter to leave her be, then she was going to do it her way, so she sought out the one man who she knew would respect and support her through this...little problem".

"Your father?" Dori asked. He and his brothers and, when she took a moment to observe, the whole company, were enthralled by her tale. Some of them were literally on the edge of their seats.

She nodded in affirmation, "Yes. Apollo is a man my mother has known her whole life. He was born on the same island, on the same day, in fact. They grew up together, played together, fought together, learned archery together. So if Artemis had to be tied to someone through child rearing, she wanted it to be with Apollo. And sure enough, when she told Apollo of her plight, he vowed to help her, and felt honored that she had come to him for help in this task. They hatched a plan to appeal to the various fertility gods for help, hoping that a child could be conceived through magic, and my mother could keep her chastity. Unfortunately, every god they went to refused to help them, because once Jupiter decides he wants something, he will not stop until he gets it. So, in desperation, they sought an audience with Juno, who, besides being the queen of the gods, is associated with fertility and childbirth. They explained the situation to her, saying that if Juno helped them, then it would keep Jupiter from being his usual philandering self. But Juno, ever the spiteful creature, also refused, and told my mother that if she found out Artemis had a child by Jupiter, she'd tear my mother limb from limb. Even more desperate at this point, there was only one fertility god left. And, really, he was their very last choice. His name is Priapus, and he is the god of male fertility. He is an exceptionally unpleasant bugger".

"And why is that?" Bilbo asked.

Callisto let out an amused giggle before continuing, "He was regarded with quite a bit of mockery amongst the gods and even many of the mortals. This is because his most defining physical characteristic was his comically large, perpetually erect member that he could not use properly, if you take my meaning," she with a wink and a cheeky grin, and the company just about died laughing. Bofur even fell off the log he was sitting on. "It certainly explained why he was in a foul mood all the time, but I digress. Anyway, when my mother told Priapus her story, he saw an opportunity for himself. He told my parents that he could help them, that he could use his godly magic to give my parents a child without sullying my mother's virginity, but for a price. Priapus said that he would give my parents a daughter, but that when this daughter came of age, he wanted her for a wife".

Shock and anger rippled through the company, outraged that a god would ask for such a thing, "Please tell me they didn't agree to that, lass," pleaded Balin.

"What choice did they have?" Callisto countered with a shrug, "The alternative was being violated by Jupiter and incurring the wrath of Juno. They picked the choice that they felt was less terrible, so they agreed to Priapus' terms, and my mother became pregnant with me. When Jupiter found out, he was satisfied. He granted my mother the things she prayed for and he gave his word that he would leave her be. I was born sometime later in the region of Greece known as Attica, with my father and several nymphs present and--yes, Master Nori?"

Nori, who was sitting off to her left with his brothers, lowered the hand that he had raised, "What's a nymph?"

"They are nature spirits. My mother had started her wandering by this point and became friends with a bunch of them and kept several of them in her retinue," she answered, and roved her eyes over the group once again, "Are there any other questions before I continue?"

No one spoke, and so she went on, "I was told, though I am not exactly sure I believe this, that I was born in my bear form," when the dwarves made another ruckus at her words, she added, "I really hope it is not true, because, Hel's Bells, my poor mother. My father, on the other hand, thought it was funny, and held me aloft for everyone present to see and declared 'Behold, my daughter, my firstborn! The fairest she-bear in all the land!' and that is when inspiration struck him for my name. In the Greek language 'Callisto' means 'the fairest'," when the company laughed at this, the goddess huffed, "if you do not agree with my name, take it up with Apollo,  but it would be at your own risk. My father does not suffer slights against his family lightly".

Eventually the company's sniggers and chuckles died down, and Balin asked, "What of your surname? Does that have any meaning?"

"Apollides? It means 'descendant of Apollo'. It is not any different than saying 'Balin son of Fundin'," answered Callisto.

"What about Priapus?" asked Glóin, eager and impatient to hear the rest of the story. "You didn't have to marry him, did you?"

"Well, what happened was when I was a few hundred years old, I was with my father visiting the city of Delphi because my father had some business to attend to there. Priapus just showed up one day, in all his large-membered glory, pointing at me aggressively and shouting at my father that he wanted to collect payment for his services. I, at this point, had no idea what was going. I did know that I was not conceived the old fashioned way, but Artemis and Apollo failed to mention to me that they bargained with one of the most unpleasant gods in the Greek pantheon to bring me into the world and that one day he would come to claim me as a wife. Imagine my surprise when I found out," she said dryly.

"What did you do?" Ori questioned, writing furiously in his journal.

"Shouted. Yelled. Mostly at Apollo. I was so angry at my parents for keeping something like that from me. Then there was more shouting and yelling coming from both Apollo and Priapus, and Priapus eventually grabbed me and tried to drag me away, and when that happened I had had enough. So I shifted into my bear form and swallowed him whole. I told him it was up to him which end he came out of. If he was willing to leave me alone, he could come out the way he came in. If he was going to be difficult, well," she trailed off with a vague gesture, knowing the dwarves would be able to take her meaning.

There was a beat of silence, and then the company absolutely  _roared_  with laughter.

_You will not read_  that  _in any book by Hesiod_  she thought amidst the mirth around her.

"Needless to say, that after reflecting for a bit, he decided that he did not need to take me as his wife. He figured that part of being a benevolent god was helping others and not expecting payment in return. So, I 'released' him, and told him that if he ever bothered me or my parents ever again, I would not just swallow him whole, I would eat him. I would take bites out of him and chew him up and that I did not care if his death caused some great divine imbalance. I have not seen him since. And  _that_ , my friends, is the conclusion of this particular tale".

Most of the dwarves, Gandalf and Bilbo, gave her a round of applause. Bofur asked her for another story, and Bilbo prompted her to retell both the tale of Sisyphus and how Hermes stole Apollo's cows, and she did to everyone's delight. Once she finished the latter story, Thorin ordered everyone to get to bed. 

"I can take the watch for tonight," she volunteered while the rest of her companions began laying out their bedrolls.

Thorin considered this before giving one stiff nod, and then turning to his blond nephew, "Fíli, you'll take second watch".

"That will not be necessary. I can take watch for the whole night," the goddess argued.

"I cannot have you dead on your feet while we're traveling," the dwarf replied gruffly.

Callisto tried to reassure him, "I will be fine. My people can go for long periods of time without sleep. I could probably make it all the way to your mountain before feeling even remotely tired. Please,  _Kýrie_ , let me do this. Besides, it means everyone else gets a full night's rest".

She could see the wheels turning in Thorin's head. He looked to his nephews, and Fíli looked back hopefully at his uncle, eager at the idea of not having to take a shift that night.

"Very well," he eventually relented, "but if at any time you feel fatigued, wake up Fíli and get some sleep".

Nodding in assent, she replied, "Of course".

The dwarf gave her one final glare, and then laid out his own bedroll by his nephews'. Balin and Dwalin took spots together near the Durin heirs, and the rest of the company split off into their family groups. This left little Bilbo standing about awkwardly, unsure of where it would be appropriate for him to sleep.

"You can come over by me, Bilbo," Callisto offered, sitting slightly away from the group, her back to the fire. "I will keep anything from harming you while you slumber".

"Uh, thank you," Bilbo said, a blush coloring his cheeks. He laid his things down between her and the camp fire, situating himself on his bedroll and pillowing his head on his pack.

In nearly no time at all, snores began wafting through the camp as the dwarves drifted off to sleep. Callisto just smiled to herself, knowing her companions were safe as she kept her vigil well into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and constructive criticism welcome!
> 
> The next chapter may or may not be finished by next week. I don't know yet. It will be in Thorin's POV though, so everyone can get excited about that.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thorin's POV_

Another day traveled and Thorin's company was once again slumbering around a dying fire under the stars, though Thorin himself was not. He sat a few paces away from the group, his back braced against a tree and staring broodily into the embers of the fire. The hour was late; the moon was high and bright in the night sky, but the heir of Durin would not find rest any time soon. His thoughts of Erebor and the damn dragon were keeping him awake this evening.

They said it was a fool's errand. Reclaiming their lost home was nothing more than a pipe dream. The envoys from the other kingdoms hadn't just refused to join in the quest, they'd laughed at him, telling him the Lonely Mountain was lost to their race. Dain's envoy even had the gall to tell him that he needed to move on and to appreciate the life his people had in Ered Luin. But there was no moving on for him. The other dwarf clans hadn't been there the day Smaug came. They hadn't seen the death of his people, and the usurpation of their home. They had not borne witness to the wrath of dragon fire and the devastation it caused as his kin fled for their lives.

No, there was no moving on from that. There was only the burning desire to slaughter the dragon and give his people back what was rightfully theirs.

So here he was on his fool's errand with his nephews, ten of his kith and kin, a wizard, a halfling, and a woman he knew next to nothing about.

Speaking of which.

He tore his eyes away from the fire and settled them on the aforementioned woman. She was facing the forest, her spear and shield on the ground beside her and her sword lay in her lap, a hand on the hilt in case they were attacked. She sat ramrod straight, and had not moved since taking her post hours earlier.

Ten days. They had been on the road ten days and every one of those ten days the otherworldly woman volunteered to take the night watch. Thorin was concerned that she was going to collapse from exhaustion sooner or later, but for now, she showed no signs of fatigue.

While they were in the halfling's home, Balin had asked him what he made of Callisto Apollides, and the truth was he really didn't know. The person sitting on the outskirts of their little camp had not been at all was he was expecting. When he met with Gandalf in Bree those few months ago, he had been...resistant to her inclusion in his company. And why shouldn't he have been? Gandalf claimed she wasn't from Middle Earth, that she had traveled here from a word far beyond Arda for the purpose of exploration. That alone was enough to rouse suspicion within the dwarf king. The idea that there were other worlds besides Middle Earth had been a shocking enough revelation, but that someone, an  _immortal_  someone, from another world could travel here? And they wanted to tag along to Erebor where the vast wealth and craft of his people lay ready for the taking? No, he wanted no part of that. The wizard being a wizard, however, had been adamant and relentless in his persuasion, citing a vast list of skills this woman allegedly possessed that would be useful to him and his kin. Thorin still was not convinced.

"Just meet her, Thorin," Gandalf had pleaded. "If you still do not like her, then send her away. Certainly there is no harm in that".

The dwarf had agreed to that much, but he didn't have to like it.

Upon meeting her, he had envisioned--or more honestly, was hoping for--a demure little woman of the race of Men, inexperienced in the ways of the world. He had thought he would be able to catch her in a grand lie, and indeed send her away and never have to think about her again. But instead of being a wilting little wallflower, Miss Apollides carried herself with an air of determination and grace more befitting someone of noble birth than a mere traveler, she could more than hold her own when his men were mercilessly questioning her, and she seemed immune to his attempts to intimidate her. Then, somehow, with another persuasive nudge from the wizard, he ordered Balin to give her a contract, which she willingly signed with a modification to the payment section. Hearing Balin read the change she made surrendering her claim to a share of the gold, hearing her words of patience and understanding, gave him an uncomfortable feeling that he didn't dare put a name to, so instead he became more suspicious. No one was that selfless or compassionate to the dwarves who wasn't a dwarf themselves.

It begged the question: if she hadn't joined the company for a reward, then why was she here?

He got the feeling she was hiding something, and he was proven right, but between shape-shifting into a bear, being a princess of her people, and possessing enough physical strength to throw Dwalin into a tree (That was actually impressive; Dwalin was no light weight), there was more to Callisto Apollides than her fair face and slim build would have them all believe, and he was determined to discover what it was.

A heavy sigh from the woman brought his attention back, and Thorin's eyes never left her form as she placed her sword on the ground and stood up from where she was sitting (She'd been sitting cross-legged for hours. How were her legs not even the least bit stiff?) and briefly checked on the halfling. Tiptoeing to the fire, Miss Apollides grabbed a few extra branches and threw them onto the flames, renewing their protective source of heat and light. Satisfied, she then made her way silently around the camp, checking on each of Thorin's men as she went until she got to his nephews, whom she merely scowled at. According to Kíli, her antipathy towards him and Fíli had been instant. He couldn't begin to fathom why she disliked them so much. They could be...enthusiastic (obnoxious) sometimes, yes, but they were still good lads.

The last dwarf she looked over was Ori, smiling down at him fondly as she did so. Then her smile slowly fell into a thin line as she looked around for one more dwarf that she wouldn't find slumbering with the others. Thorin took a small amount of pleasure in the look of panic on her face as her body turned this way and that searching for him. After several moments of watching the woman, he decided it would be best to keep her from becoming frantic, so he cleared his throat loudly to get her attention.

She whirled around to face him. The light from the fire made her skin look more golden than usual. Shadows were cast on her face that made her outlines more sharp and feral and gave her too-green eyes a glinting edge that he found unsettling, but his pride kept him from looking away. The expression on her face was neutral and unreadable, head tilted to the side regarding him pensively. Something Balin said in the halfling's home suddenly came to mind. It was after she handed over her signed contract. His advisor and friend had watched her take her leave of them with a look of deep thought. Thorin asked what was on Balin's mind.

"Something about her feels ancient and...odd. Odd in a way I can't put my finger on," Balin had said, more to himself than Thorin. Then, as if remembering that Thorin was there, a smile that didn't reach his eyes appeared through his beard and he merely shrugged. "It's probably nothing".

The heir of Durin had not responded to Balin's words that night, for he had not perceived what Balin had. Miss Apollides was simply a woman, immortal and old perhaps, but still a woman. Thorin figured her oddness stemmed from her foreignness.

But now, with the moon bright overhead and the fire bright between them, and her looking at him the way a top tier predator looks at easy prey, he saw what Balin was talking about. Something wasn't right about the lone woman in his company who was too selfless, too compassionate, too kind, too helpful, and too patient, who never slept but never got tired, and who never complained. It unnerved him to his core, and for the briefest moment, he was frightened of her.

And then in a blink, the moment passed. The hard edges of the woman's face didn't seem so sharp, and a gentle little smile tugged at her lips.

"It is late,  _Kýrie_ ," she said softly in her lilting accent, the sound of her voice snuffing out the remnants of whatever spell had settled between them. "You should get some rest".

Thorin's mouth turned down at her words. He still hadn't decided how he felt about her way of addressing him. She said it meant "sir" in her mother tongue, and her tone implied respect whenever she called him that, but part of him wondered if she was secretly insulting him. Not that he could prove it.

"I will rest when I am ready," he snapped, still jittery after what he had just witnessed. "And you would do well to mind your own business".

"We cannot have our leader dead on his feet," she replied with a teasing flash of her teeth, using his own words against him.

"I am fine," he growled at her, not liking how she could throw his words in his face without sounding like she was throwing his words in his face.

Her grin disappeared as she studied him once again, though not with the same intensity as she did before. Thorin still fidgeted under her gaze anyway, uncomfortable with the look of concern that started spreading on her face.

"What?" he demanded after several moments of awkward silence.

"I, um," she stumbled, trying to collect her words carefully, "I know a spell, one that my brother taught me. It would help you fall asleep, if you allow me to cast it".

He involuntarily  _seethed_  at the woman's suggestion, and bared his teeth in a snarl, "You will not  _taint_  me with your witchcraft! I told you already that I am fine!"

“There is no need to snap at me,” Miss Apollides scolded harshly, and Thorin suddenly felt like a child in trouble with his mother. “A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed. I am getting tired of you constantly biting my head off. I am not the Hydra. I only have one”.

“I do not bite your head off,” Thorin said defensively.

“You have done it so much that I am surprised I still have one!” she shouted.

The dwarf tried to hush her, “Keep your voice down. You will wake the company”.

Miss Apollides responded with a sarcastic laugh, “Do you not hear how loudly they are snoring? They are dead to the world for the night. It is just you and me, Kýrie”. The way she said _it is just you and me_ sounded almost threatening, and Thorin’s hand instinctively tightened around his own sword.

It was something the woman took notice of, “You think I am going to do you harm?” she asked, stunned. Then another mirthless laugh bubbled out of her all while she was shaking her head. “When are you going to accept that I am not your enemy?”

Refusing to loosen his grip on his weapon, Thorin fired back, "When you accept that, until proven otherwise, you are".

Her indignation immediately dissipated. Shoulders slumping ever so slightly and dropping her gaze to the ground, she said, "Sometimes I forget that others have not been kind to you," she brought her eyes up to meet his, full of remorse and sadness, leaving Thorin at a loss for how to respond.

When he could not come up with a proper response, she spoke again, "Please accept my sincerest apologies for my behavior. May sleep find you quickly when you decide to seek it out". She gave him a small, deferential bow and went back to her post on the edge of the camp, sitting herself back down on the ground in one smooth, graceful motion. Her sword found its way back into her lap as she settled into her position as night watch, looking as if she had never moved.

Thorin was still speechless. He had expected Miss Apollides to continue arguing with him, or rather, he had wanted to continue arguing with her. Dwarves, by nature, could be quite tempestuous. They were loud and boisterous, quick to anger and not so quick to forgive, and would never abandon a fight. Thorin was poised to verbally defend himself against this woman who had no idea what it felt like to have allies betray you, to wander the world begging for help and getting none. She did not know loss the way he did. And he was ready, so totally, thoroughly prepared to let this ignorant outsider know just how little she understood about him and his people. But it hadn’t come to that. The moment Miss Apollides realized her error, she backed off. It wouldn’t reflect well on him if he tried to goad her after she gave a heartfelt apology, so he was left feeling like he was a guard dog chasing an intruder, only to be yanked back bodily upon reaching the end of its tether.

Compelled to continue talking anyway, Thorin scrambled and stumbled for something to say. More than once, he opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it when nothing would come out. He wasn’t usually so terrible with words, being no stranger to making grand speeches or simply making conversation with people he knew. Talking to Miss Apollides shouldn’t have been so difficult, and yet he could not think of anything to say to her.

Guilt twisted in Thorin's chest as he looked at her. Balin had scolded him after she turned over her contract, saying that until she proved otherwise, the dwarf king should be more respectful. Thorin chided himself that she was only trying to help him, and that being so abrasive with her was uncalled for. The words she spoke about trust echoed in his head, and he decided it would be in his best interest to smooth things over

Ashamed of himself for his temper and general ineptitude, he finally settled on a topic and asked rather gruffly, “What is a Hydra?”

She turned to look at him over her left shoulder, the fire lighting up one side of her face, leaving the other half cast in shadow. Her expression was a bit incredulous, as if she’d caught him having tea with a band of orcs, “You need to get some sleep, _Kýrie_ ,” she said in a low tone.

“Answer the question first”.

The woman continued to stare at him, the night air filled with the sounds of his snoring men and the crackling fire. A few tense moments went by, then with a sigh, Miss Apollides responded, “It was not _a_ Hydra. It was _the_ Hydra. The only creature like it on Gaia. The Hydra was a large, many-headed serpent, and the guardian of Lake Lerna. It had the unique ability to grow back two heads for every one you cut off,” she smiled at him, mischievous and nostalgic. “That was something I found out the hard way”.

Thorin found himself smiling deviously back at her, aware that she wanted him to ask her how she had found out about the Hydra’s heads the hard way. But he liked the idea of keeping her on her toes, so instead he asked, “What was so special about the lake that it needed a guardian?”

Arching a brow, Miss Apollides said, “It was thought to have healing powers,” before Thorin could ask why she would need such thing she added, “and there was an entrance to the Underworld at the bottom”.

Jaw dropping just a bit, Thorin could not gloss over _that_ , “You tried to enter the Underworld?”

“I did not simply try, I succeeded,” she said.

“And what business did a woman like you have in the Underworld?” he asked in awe.

Besides a darkening look, Miss Apollides didn’t acknowledge his jibe, “I needed to speak to Pluto, King of the Underworld, and God of the Dead. He stood accused of abducting Proserpina, the Goddess of Springtime. Because of my skills in diplomacy and negotiating, Jupiter tasked me with investigating”.

Thorin wasn’t sure what he had expected from this conversation, but it definitely wasn’t that. Though he knew she was a diplomat, and an old one at that, the fact that the king of her gods thought highly enough of her to send her on such a task had his mind reeling. “And what did you find?”

“Proserpina was indeed in the Underworld, but she had gone willingly, desperate to get away from her overbearing mother, Ceres, the Goddess of the Harvest. The problem was, even though Proserpina had not been abducted, Ceres was still distraught by the loss of her daughter, and her sadness caused a most terrible winter to fall on the land, and nothing grew. People were starving. So a deal was struck: Proserpina would spend half the year with her husband, and the other half with her mother. And the crisis was averted”.

Thorin scoffed at the woman’s words, and she met his eyes sharply, “What?”

“Do you hear the words that are coming out of your mouth?” the dwarf asked, disbelieving.

“My sense of hearing is better than yours, so, yes,” she replied flatly.

“Then surely you must be aware of how unbelievable your claims are?”

Turning on her rump so she could face him fully, Miss Apollides looked at him with absolute, unmitigated reproach. Setting her sword next to her, her elbows rested on her knees, and she steepled her fingers while regarding him thoughtfully, “You believe that I am not of this world, yes?”

The dwarf narrowed his eyes, “Yes. All one has to do is look at you or listen to you to know you don’t belong here”.

Miss Apollides tilted her head to the side, “Do you believe that I am immortal? And that I am the age I say I am?”

Thorin paused a moment to consider that. Fifty thousand years was a long time to live. He didn’t think even elves had attained such an age, but if the woman before him was from another world, he supposed it was possible, “Yes,” he answered, but then added, “though you do not act your age”.

His lips twitched as he watched her brows furrow together, “How is someone my age supposed to act?” she questioned.

 _Sullen? Somber? Jaded? Bitter? Closed off? Unapproachable? Less friendly? Not so damn kind and compassionate?_  “Not like you,” he said eventually.

Miss Apollides was silent, sitting stock-still as she continued to stare at him. If it weren’t for the steady rise and fall of her chest, Thorin would have thought she had turned into a statue.

Taking in a long slow breath and letting it out just as slowly, the woman dropped her hands to drape them over her crossed legs. She sat up straight, and her eyes narrowed as she looked at him head on. Thorin was suddenly very fearful of the dressing down he was clearly going to get.

“You believe all these things about me,” she began, tilting her head to the side, “you are told that there are other worlds besides this one, that they lie far beyond the stars, and that people who know how can travel between them. You are told that I am a diplomat, not only to my own people, but also to mortal men. You accept these notions without too much questioning, but me traveling to the Underworld to be a diplomat for my gods somehow crosses your threshold of doubt?”

Opening his mouth to give her a snappy retort, Thorin audibly snapped it shut again when nothing snappy left his lips, “I--yes,” he muttered articulately. With her staring so sternly at him he decided the straps of his boots were far more interesting to look at.

“That is what I thought,” Miss Apollides said scathingly, and turned away from him to face the darkness of the forest once again. “Had I not been forewarned that dwarves are stubborn and contrary, I would have thought you were being childish just to make my life difficult”.

He growled. She had been _warned_? Other races did not need to be _warned_ about dwarves! Thorin’s people had not been through dragon fire and death just so that people like Miss Apollides could be warned about them as if they were mindless beasts!

“You think your life is so difficult?” he asked, his voice dangerously calm.

“You think my life is easy?” she countered. She didn’t bother to look at him as she spoke.

The dwarf laughed at the woman with cold derision the foliage around him should have frozen over, “Right. You still have your home and your family. You are immortal and respected for what you do. You do not know loss. You know _nothing_!”

The air around them shifted. When Miss Apollides looked at him over her shoulder, her face was anguish. It stopped Thorin’s white hot anger and turned it to ice. He cursed himself for letting his temper get away from him again. He’d hurt her. The dwarf king wasn’t exactly what anyone would call nice or outgoing. He was not friendly or patient, neither jovial nor optimistic. But for all of Thorin’s faults, he had never taken pleasure in hurting another’s feelings.

“Miss Apollides, I--”

“No, no, you are right,” she interrupted, giving him a wan smile, “Fifty thousand years is far too little time for me to lose anything, or anyone. It is not like traveling for extended periods time forces me to come back to beloved places just to find them in ruins, and all the friends I made long dead. In fifty thousand years I have never seen war or empires rise and fall. I have never in all my years seen death and injustice. How nice it is to have a dwarf as astute as you see right through me. What a relief”.

If the earth had opened up and swallowed Thorin whole, he would have been all too happy to allow it.

“Miss Apollides, please, allow me to--”

“You know what? I think I am going to go scouting for a bit,” she said, suddenly standing and picking up her weapons. “it has been a few hours since I made sure the perimeter was secure. Who knows? Perhaps I will catch us something for breakfast,” her tone was deceptively pleasant, but her face was so drawn and sad that Thorin wanted nothing more to reassure her that he was sorry and hadn’t meant what he said, but words failed him. He could do nothing but watch while her form disappeared into the darkness.

Thorin waited until he could no longer hear the rustling of underbrush, and slowly, stiffly stood up. His lower back twinged with discomfort from sitting against a tree for so long. He dragged his feet by where his nephews were sleeping. Fíli was lying spread eagle on his bedroll with his brother curled up next to him. Thorin smiled down at the pair of them as he located his own bedroll and sunk down on it with a heavy heart. He had failed. He had given his word to her that she was welcome in his company, and all the words that come spewing from his mouth had implied everything but.

It took a while for sleep to claim him, but as it did, Thorin vowed that he would try again the next night to make amends with Miss Apollides.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's second attempt at reconciling with Callisto goes better than expected, and others in the company notice their budding friendship

"What happened to the Hydra? Did you end up slaying the beast?" Thorin asked Miss Apollides the following evening once everyone else had been long asleep. Because their camp was in a much more open space that night, Thorin couldn't distance himself from everyone in the shadows of nearby trees, so he decided his best course of action was to sit down right next to her. The most direct approach was usually the best one. He was determined to make up for his words and poor behavior, and he was hoping she would welcome his efforts.

The woman looked askance at him as he sat down, "I cannot imagine why you would care," she grumbled, the muscles in her jaw tightening.

"I am curious," he said honestly, trying not to lose faith in his plan. "You didn't elaborate on your encounter with it".

She crossed her arms as an acerbic smile marred her face, "Well, our conversation did not go in that direction, now, did it?"

Thorin sighed and turned his head away from her in shame. He would need to tread carefully, "I may have crossed a line with you last night".

Miss Apollides snorted, " _Kýrie_ , you took a running start and long jumped over the line like you were going for Olympic gold". 

Blinking up at the woman in confusion, Thorin decided to save the questions about her nonsensical statement for another day, "I suppose I did," he said cautiously, figuring it would be in his best interest if he agreed with her. 

She turned to look at him, irritation still evident on her face, "You clearly did not come over here to ask me about the Hydra, so what do you really want?" she asked tersely.

Thorin took a deep breath to collect himself. These words never got easier to say, no matter how many times he said them, "I wanted to apologize for what I said. My words were most uncalled for".

The glare she was giving him softened somewhat, but didn't completely disappear, "I wish you would stop saying things that you need to apologize for, and treat me like you treat the others".

He didn't know what to say to that. Miss Apollides was a member of his company, but she wasn't one of his people. He didn't think he'd ever treat her the way he treated the others.

But he could, at the very least, treat her with some dignity. She deserved that much.

"Miss Apollides, I know that we keep getting off on the wrong foot--"

"Oh, no no no," she interrupted, "there is no 'we' involved in this. The only one whose foot is doing anything is yours because it goes in your mouth whenever you open it".

He felt his temper rising, but took a deep breath to quell it. She wasn't wrong. While Miss Apollides had no qualms about standing up to Thorin, she still conducted herself with a surprising amount of grace and restraint (This was excluding telling him to pull his head out of his arse when he called her a monster. Thorin couldn't bring himself to blame her for that), but it seemed that he always found a way to say the exact wrong thing when he spoke to her. It was unbefitting of a dwarf of the line of Durin. All the more reason to correct the behavior.

"You have been extraordinarily patient and understanding with all of us, but with me especially. I have directed much of my of ire at you and it has been undeserved. I give you my word that it will not happen again," he vowed, and then he said with a wry grin, "I'll even restrain my feet so they do not find their way into my mouth when he interact".

Giving him that same incredulous look from the night before, the woman blinked once, then twice, then she did something Thorin didn't expect.

She laughed.

It started as a polite chuckle, a simple indulging of his lackadaisical attempt at humor. Then, after thinking over his words for a few moments, she laughed in earnest with a deep, pleasant belly laugh that Thorin could not say he disliked the sound of, that quickly turned into the type of laughing where the whole body quivers, but not much sound comes out. Miss Apollides had one arm wrapped around herself as if she was going to fall apart from laughter and needed to hold herself together. Her other hand covered her face, leaving only her wild, raven hair visible. Thorin noted that it just barely brushed her shoulders, and he wondered if its length was culturally significant like it was for his people, or if her people were like other races who viewed hair as nothing more than an accessory like jewelry. It was a question he would save for another day.

"I am sorry," she said between gasps of air as her mirth finally died away, "I suddenly envisioned you trying to say something and a random, errant foot just shoving its way into your mouth, and I could not help myself. The imagery was too much," Miss Apollides was then sent into another fit of laughter after thinking about it again. Thorin simply watched her, taking amusement in her merrymaking. He had not meant to be that funny, truth be told, but seeing her wide, bright smile and listening to her pleasant laugh, he would relish the small victories where he could get them.

"Soggy toga of Neptune, Thorin Oakenshield made a joke," she declared after composing herself with a great effort, "one of the grumpiest people I have ever met actually cracked a joke. Surely Ragnarök is upon us".

He looked at her, frowning at the second statement of nonsense she had made that night, "I am not grumpy".

This time she giggled, high-pitched like birdsong, but neither shrill nor unpleasant, "That is your takeaway from that statement? All right," she then leaned in close to him. It was not enough to be inappropriate, but she was close enough that Thorin could feel his face heating up at her sudden close proximity, " _Kýrie_ , you are wound up so tightly, that if we stuck a lump of coal up your arse at breakfast, we would have a diamond by lunch". 

He could feel the beginnings of outrage rippling in his chest, but he stopped it dead in its tracks. He couldn't get angry with her for saying something that wasn't untrue. Many people in his life had told him something similar: Balin, Dwalin, Dís, and even his nephews frequently urged him to lighten up every now and then, though with varying degrees of crudeness. And Miss Apollides' phrasing was definitely on the more colorful end of that spectrum. It drove home his previous point that she did not act like a woman who was as ancient as she claimed.

"You are quite outspoken for a woman of your station. Are you always so crass?" he asked huffily.

Miss Apollides leaned back to look at him fully, and Thorin let out a relieved breath at the renewed space between them, "I am not crass, I am frank. There is a difference," she replied, her tone haughty.

"Not much of one," Thorin ground out.

Glancing sideways at him, the woman gave a little shake of her head and turned her attention back to keeping watch. They fell into a silence; thankfully, it wasn't awkward or hostile.

Thorin couldn't help feeling a little pleased. It seemed she had forgiven him, and he managed to make her laugh. His efforts had been a success. His mind turned to the night Dwalin had tried to train her. She had said she wanted to be friends, and he reflexively told her they weren't, but now he couldn't say he was completely opposed to the idea.

"To answer your earlier question," said Miss Apollides, breaking Thorin's reverie and startling him. Her lips twitched ever so slightly when he jumped, but her expression stayed still otherwise, "I did not slay the Hydra. Being Pluto's guardian, I did not wish to incur his wrath by killing it, especially since I was there to possibly escort his lover back to her mother".

Thorin nodded. From a diplomatic standpoint, her reasoning made sense, "Then how did you slip by to enter the Underworld?"

"By the skin of my teeth," she replied, sounding irritated with herself, "You know. the Hydra originally had one head. You want to know who changed that?" she pointed at herself, "Me, because I am an idiot. You think I would have learned after cutting off the first few. I did not stop until the thing had six, and I knew I was in trouble".

"What happened then?"

"My Uncle Hermes distracted it. He had accompanied me to help with the situation with Pluto. Thankfully, Hermes is as clever and cunning as he is, because I do not think things would have ended well for me if he had not been there".

The dwarf smiled as the woman spoke of her uncle. He looked over at Fíli and Kíli, thinking of some of the scraps he'd gotten his nephews out of over the years, "You have spoken of Hermes before. Are you and your uncle close?"

Miss Apollides hesitated, but before Thorin could think anything of it, she answered, "Yes. Out of all the people I have met in my life, I was always closest with Hermes," she paused for a moment, then added with a smirk, "If you want someone to blame for my frankness, it would be him".

Thorin returned the smirk, "So he started corrupting his little niece from a young age, then?"

She scoffed, "Considering I am several centuries older than he, no. He started corrupting me when he was of a young age. I couldn't complain though. Life is never dull when Hermes is around".

Not noticing the dark look that passed over Miss Apollides' face, Thorin asked in surprise, "You are older than your uncle?"

"Yes. It certainly made for an interesting dynamic between us. We were more like siblings than uncle and niece".

Thorin glanced at his nephews again, pondering their relationship. He wondered what his life would have been like if Fíli and Kíli had been older than him and not the other way around. Considering the trouble the two frequently found themselves in, Thorin really didn't want to think about it, and thanked Mahal for the small mercy of having a traditional relationship with his rambunctious sister-sons.

When he turned his gaze back to Miss Apollides, she was studying him thoughtfully, "You were thinking of the young ones".

He nodded, "I was just thinking about how things would be if I was younger than them".

Wrinkling her nose at the thought, Miss Apollides reasoned, "It would most likely be them leading this quest".

Thorin shuddered at the thought. His nephews had become skilled warriors in their short years, especially Fíli, who already had the makings of a fair and just king, but this quest was going to be dangerous and daunting. No matter how skilled they were, even together, Thorin didn't think Fíli and Kíli could handle the responsibility of leading the company to Erebor. They were still too young and too inexperienced. 

In light of that, if he had been younger than his kin, it still would not be they who would be leading the company, "No. Had I been the youngest, it would be my sister, Dís, leading us".

"You have a sister?" she asked like it was the grandest piece of news she'd ever heard, "I never thought that you had any siblings. I guess I should have known better. Your nephews had to come from somewhere, after all".

"Indeed," he replied. For a brief moment, he debated mentioning his brother, Frerin, but speaking of his long-dead brother, who valiantly gave his life in the battle of Azanulbizar, would leave him grieving all over again, and he still didn't know this woman well enough for him to tax his emotions on such a personal level in front of her. Instead, he stated, "You do not like them".

When her brows knit together in confusion, he clarified, "Fíli and Kíli. You do not like them. You are not as friendly with them as you are with the others, and when you check on the company while they sleep, you get a sour look when you check on my nephews".

The look on Miss Apollides' face reminded Thorin of the times Kíli would get caught stealing sweets when he wasn't supposed to, all wide-eyed and sheepish. 

"They did apologize for whatever they said to you in the halfling's home," he reminded her. "And Fíli gave you one of his knives".

"I know. I was there when it happened," she snapped.

"Then what is your quarrel with them?"

She let out a long, agitated breath through her nose, and then replied, "It is not that I have a quarrel with them. I--," she paused to consider her words before whispering, "It is complicated".

"Then explain it to me".

"I would rather not".

He wanted to press her for answers. Complicated or not, Thorin felt like her enmity towards his nephews was unjustified, and he was ready to jump to their defense and remind her that they were of Durin's line. Miss Apollides needed to understand that treating his nephews with respect was mandatory. She was carrying one of Fíli's knives, one that Thorin forged for him, for Mahal's sake! The least she could do was tell him why she disliked them so much.

But just when he was going to give a little push, he took notice of the rigid way Miss Apollides was holding herself and the shaky breaths she was taking. She looked almost pained, and then it hit him.

"They remind you of someone," when she didn't deny it he continued, "someone you lost".

She took in a sharp breath, astonished that he had come to the correct conclusion, and then gave one, tiny nod of her head, "Yes".

Miss Apollides shoulders began trembling slightly as if she was cold, though the night was warm enough for late spring. To Thorin's eyes, she suddenly seemed so very small and vulnerable and even a little lost. A wave of guilt surged through him, and he decided it was best not to push her tonight. He knew all too well how grief can build walls strong and thick like mountain stone, and no matter how hard someone tried to break through, trying to do so at the wrong time would yield poor results. Sometimes the best tactic was to allow the other person space.

Sighing, Thorin reached out and put a reassuring hand on Miss Apollides' shoulder, "You do not have to tell me if you do not want to".

She shrugged his hand off her shoulder, and at the same time practically sagged with relief, "Thank you," she mumbled, shifting in her spot and refusing to meet his eyes.

Thorin's hand briefly hovered in the space between them before dropping it back into his lap. "If you and your uncle are so close, then why did he not join you in coming here?" he asked, changing the subject with the intention of putting her back at ease.

Miss Apollides took several deep breaths to calm herself, but it didn't do much good if the tenseness in her back and shoulders was anything to go by. She rubbed a hand over her face as if would rub out her anxiety, "He had other duties to attend to".

It must have been something in her tone, because Thorin got the feeling that there was more to it than that, but couldn't begin to guess what it was, "Such as?" he prompted.

"He is my grandfather's herald, and he is the messenger of my people. We would travel together when possible, but he did not have the luxury of coming with me this time". Her gaze flitted to him curiously, "Why did your sister not come along on the quest? It is also her home that you are reclaiming".

"Someone needed to look after my people in my stead," he explained. "I am glad for it. Dís is a strong dwarf and will lead our people well while we vanquish that dragon filth". Not that Dís hadn't wanted to come. His sister had started row after row with him in an effort to convince him to let her go along.  _I am of the line of Durin, brother, the same as you. I have as much right to take back that mountain_. The last thing Thorin wanted to do was take that opportunity away from her, but his people in Ered Luin needed looking after. So, with much convincing on his part, much grumbling on hers, and a promise from Thorin to protect her sons, Dís stayed behind.

"You miss her," Miss Apollides' voice cut through his thoughts. The last remnants of her grief and anxiety had ebbed away (or she had hidden them well), and the smile she was giving him was soft and gentle.

"Of course I do," he freely admitted, "She is my sister, and if the circumstances had allowed it, I would have her here with me. Would you not have your brothers here with you if you could? Or even your uncle?"

Her smile fell, and for a moment Thorin feared he had something wrong, but then she nodded, "I would. Not all of them, of course. Many of my brothers were brave, but not very adventurous. I think Philammon definitely would have jumped at the chance to join your quest, along with Orpheus, and both of them certainly would have been the first to write epic songs about it _._  The others, I'm not so sure about".

A plethora of questions popped into Thorin's head, mainly  _how many brothers does this woman have?_ and  _who names their child Philammon?_  

"Would you even have allowed any of my kin to come along?" she questioned. "You opposed my inclusion so adamantly. I can only imagine how stubborn you would be if I had company".

"It's as I told you, all I require is loyalty, honor, and a willing heart".

"Well, that rules out Hermes then," Miss Apollides said dryly. 

Thorin opened his mouth to ask her what she meant by that, but a a snapping twig and loud, rustling brush in the distance kept him from asking. He turned to see if Miss Apollides had heard it too, but she had already shot up and was halfway to the line of trees, sword in hand ready to strike, "Wait here," she commanded. "I will be right back".

The shadows of the forest quickly consumed her retreating form, leaving Thorin wide-eyed in her wake. He couldn't just let her go alone. Skilled fighter or not, there were any number of things lurking among the trees this time of night: orcs, bandits, or hunting animals. Any of them could overwhelm Miss Apollides if she was ambushed. With this thought in his mind, he stood quickly, grabbed his sword, and began making his way to the woods in the direction he saw her run in. Mindful of stray roots and other forest debris, the dwarf tread carefully through the trees, concentrating on the dark silence for any sign of Miss Apollides.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and there was neither hide nor hair of the woman. Cursing her for running off so foolishly, Thorin became more and more wary of how far he was wandering from the camp. As much as he didn't want to leave Miss Apollides unprotected, his men were vulnerable sleeping without someone near them on watch. He stopped his walking and debated heading back. Miss Apollides could probably handle herself. If something happened, she could shift to a bear and defend herself well enough, and the company shouldn't be left on their own.

Mind made up, he turned around to start walking back, but another rustle off to his left caught his attention. He immediately shifted his body into a fighting stance, sword poised to fight off whatever foe was coming his way.

Miss Apollides came into view from around a large bush, and Thorin sighed in relief and lowered his sword as she approached him.

"What are you doing here? I told you to wait for me," she scolded. Thorin couldn't see any signs of a scuffle on her, or any other indication that something was amiss.

"I came looking for you. You shouldn't just run off by yourself," he defended.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't say anything further.

"Did you find anything?" Thorin asked.

"I did not see anyone. I did, however, find footprints," she answered, and Thorin tensed. "Two sets. Still fresh. One slightly smaller than the other. I do not know the difference between the footprints of the different races of this world, so I cannot say for certain, but I think they were Men".

A growl escaped from deep in Thorin's throat. The area around the Great East Road was teeming with bandits and mercenaries. A night raid was the last thing he and his company needed.

"I did not see or hear anything," she reported, trying to sound reassuring, "so I think whoever it was is gone now".

"We should get back to the others," Thorin ground out, and without waiting to see if the woman was following, he stormed off back to the camp.

All of the members of his company were still sound asleep when they returned, allowing Thorin to relax a bit.

" _Kýrie_ , I think you should get some rest," when he made a sound to protest, Miss Apollides held up a hand to silence him, "I insist. Do not worry, should anyone or anything come this way, I will sound the alarm".

Thorin let out a heavy sigh through his nose, "Fine. But I will wake up Dwalin to keep watch with you," he insisted.

Miss Apollides pondered that for a moment, "Very well, if that will put you at ease".

"It will," he said, stepping between the company members to where Dwalin was sleeping. "It is a shame," he lamented as he nudged Dwalin to wake him up, "I was just starting to enjoy our conversation," he smiled at her genuinely. He had been enjoying speaking with her. Thinking back on it, she had been surprisingly easy to talk to.

The chuckle she let out danced across the camp, "I was too. You can be quite pleasant when you are not scowling and growling at everything".

He looked back at her in surprise. The look she was giving him was full of mischief, and just to spite her, he forced his face into a frown, "You slander me, woman".

She laughed fully that time, "It is only slander if it is not true".

Dwalin stirred at his feet. When Thorin glanced at him, Dwalin was looking back, bleary-eyed and a bit suspicious, "What's going on?" his friend asked, voice hoarse from sleep.

"You're on watch with the woman".

Groaning, Dwalin slowly sat up on his bedroll, "I thought she could keep watch by herself".

"We heard something not far from here, and she found fresh footprints in the forest".

Dwalin looked at him, eyebrows shooting up, "'We'?" he asked suggestively, giving Thorin a look.

The dwarf king could feel heat flooding his cheeks, and he silently prayed that Mahal would be merciful enough to keep Dwalin from seeing. "We," Thorin confirmed. His voice held a silent challenge, daring Dwalin to elaborate on his unspoken implication. Thorin had nothing to be embarrassed about, so why did he feel like he got caught doing something he shouldn't?

They held each other's gazes for a few moments, then Dwalin let out a snort and smirked at his king, "And here I thought I'd be gettin' a full night's sleep 'til we reached the mountain. Was gonna be fully rested when we confronted the cursed beast," he held out his hand so Thorin could help him up. Thorin obliged, and Dwalin grabbed his twin axes, Grasper and Keeper.

"You thought wrong," was all Thorin said as he lowered himself onto his bedroll. Snorting again at Thorin's expense, Dwalin lumbered over to Miss Apollides. They gave each other nods of acknowledgment, and Dwalin sat down a handful of yards away from the woman.

Thorin settled himself on his bedroll, closed his eyes, and had just began to doze off he was pulled back into full awareness by footfalls coming his way. For a moment he thought it was Dwalin coming to retrieve something he'd forgotten, but when he cracked open his eyes, they met the green-eyed gaze of Miss Apollides, who was crouched down next to him.

"If you were serious about enjoying our little talk, then we can continue it tomorrow night, if you wish," she murmured, voice low so that Dwalin would not hear.

"I would like that," he said automatically, and then blushed again, embarrassed by his own eagerness.

The corners of her mouth turned up at his response. Pleased with his answer she stood up to her full height, "Sleep well,  _Kýrie_ ".

Thorin watched her as she walked away. As he drifted off, he found himself looking forward to speaking to her again.

 

* * *

 

It became a kind of ritual between them.

While they traveled during the day, Thorin rode at the front of the company, usually with either Balin, Dwalin (or both), or Gandalf riding next to him. He was usually glad for his kin's company, not so much for the wizard's. Gandalf made the subject of going to the elves about his grandfather's map a constant topic of discussion, one that Thorin always promptly shut down. As if he would  _ever_  go to those filthy, beardless betrayers for anything. The company would do just fine without their help.

Callisto, on the other hand, would ride closer to the back with Bilbo her ever-present companion. They spoke of all manner of things. The hobbit would tell her about the Shire, and about his mother, Belladonna, who went on all types of adventures of her own. Callisto told him about Gaia. She would weave wonderful stories about all the different sights and cities and people of her world. Bilbo, may his gods bless him, always paid the most attention when she talked about the food of her world. More often than not, Ori would ride with them and make notes both on what Bilbo and Callisto talked about, and was always listened to everything they had to say. Sometimes Bofur and Bombur would join their conversations. Bifur would try to as well, but Bilbo couldn't understand what he was saying and Callisto had to pretend she didn't, but his company was nice nonetheless. More than once, her eyes and mind would drift to the dwarf king leading them.

When they would make camp for the night, Callisto and Bilbo would help Bombur and Bofur prepare dinner. As the night's stew simmered over the fire, Callisto would spar with Dwalin until the food was ready. While everyone ate, she and Bofur would take turns telling stories to the company. She told them of Perseus and Medusa, of Theseus and the Minotaur, and of the twelve labors of Hercules (she found great amusement of the look of surprise on Thorin's face when she explained the second labor). The dwarves, the hobbit, and even Gandalf always hung on her every word, and always begged her to tell more, to which she would laugh and say it was a long way to the Lonely Mountain and there would be plenty of time to tell more stories for them. Bofur would then take over with some lewd tale about some bar wench in this village or that.

After, once everyone started turning in for the night, Thorin would wait until everyone had fallen asleep, and seek out the woman to continue their private conversations. The pair was pleased to learn that they had more in common than they had originally thought; both of them were born in winter, had large families, and had a deep love of the arts. Callisto grinned at him when he revealed that he played the harp. Out of all the instruments he could have learned to play, she wasn't expecting him to bother with a harp of all things. Thorin, on the other hand, widened his eyes further and further the more instruments Callisto rattled off that she could play. He had never heard of most of them, but he did learn that "keyboard" instruments were her favorite to play.

The more they talked, the more Thorin found Callisto fascinating, and Callisto felt the same about him. She told him tales of her travels, and the shenanigans she would get up to with Hermes (Thorin's favorite story was how she caught Hermes with other immortal trouble makers: Loki, Anansi, Seth, and Coyote, and truly thought the world was ending). Thorin spoke most about his childhood in Erebor (it would be prudent for her to know more about the mountain she was helping to reclaim, he told himself). Callisto always smiled when he described the vast halls made of green marble and how veins of gold could be seen everywhere, and how  _alive_  the mountain used to be. 

Sometime late into the night, Thorin would trudge on back to his bedroll for the night. Callisto quickly learned that it took the dwarf a long time to fall asleep. When he would finally drift off, she would go off scouting. If the footprints she found those few nights prior had her unsettled, the fact that she continued to find them not far from their camp really gave her pause. Sometimes it was the same pair from before, sometimes it was a new set. Other times she'd find apple cores and nut shells. The fact that their pursuers were just casually snacking while passively threatening them irritated her to no end. She kept telling herself that she needed to tell Thorin, but he was wound up so tightly as it was. A dragon loomed at the end of their quest, and besides Thorin and his nephews, the king had thirteen other people (herself included) whose safety and well being he felt personally responsible for. On top of that, with their late night talks and early rising time, it was a wonder he didn't nod off and fall off his pony during the day. 

Even still, eventually she would have to tell the company that they were being followed.

 

* * *

 

 

"Stop staring at her".

Heat rushed to Thorin's cheeks as he turned to face forward again, taking great care to not meet Dwalin's eyes, "I am not staring at her," he lied.

He could practically hear Dwalin grin, "The halfling then? Either way, can't say I'm surprised. Ye always did like the bare-faced ones".

"I do not like anyone!" Thorin snapped. He didn't need Dwalin bringing up his more ill-advised past personal pursuits, or making  _implications_  about the woman or the hobbit. Normally, Dwalin being more perceptive than people gave him credit for was a useful skill. More than once, it had gotten them out of skirmishes when trouble found them in their travels. Now, though, it was most definitely not welcome.

"Oh, don't I know it!" Dwalin cackled. "You didn't like that lass from Rohan all those years ago, or that younger fellow from Dunland..."

"That's enough, brother," chided Balin, but Thorin wasn't fooled. He could see the devilish spark in the old dwarf's eye. "If you want to bring up people Thorin doesn't like, you should have mentioned those twins in Bree".

Thorin grumbled between the two brothers, "I should have left you both in Ered Luin".

"You say that like we would have willingly stayed behind," laughed Dwalin.

"If you had any respect for your king, you would have".

"I have plenty of respect for my king. Thorin Oakenshield, on the other hand, I can't say I care for," Dwalin was riding close enough to Thorin to elbow him in the side with a laugh. In response, Thorin lamely swatted his friend's arm away. He'd known Balin and Dwalin long enough to know that nothing he said would keep either friend from teasing him. 

He sat up a little straighter in his saddle and did his best to exude a bit of dignity that told Dwalin he was above such things.

"What I would like to know," Balin mused in such a way that made Thorin think the old dwarf already knew the answer, "is why my brother thinks you were staring at the lass to begin with".

Thorin panicked when Dwalin barked out a laugh.  _Dwalin, don't you dare_ , he silently pleaded.

But Dwalin didn't seem to notice, or care, "Our fearless leader has been staying up with the lass at night, chatting her up".

Balin's gaze leveled on on the dwarf king, "Thorin?" he questioned in a tone that made Thorin feel like dwarfling in trouble.

"I stay up and speak with Miss Apollides," he admitted since there was no point in denying it. Balin always had a way of seeing through him. "But I am hardly chatting her up".

Balin looked at him a little wide-eyed, surprised by the answer, then his expression changed to one of smugness, "That's good".

Dwalin and Balin smiled knowingly at each other, and Thorin stayed silent. Let them think what they want. There was nothing wrong with getting to know Miss Apollides. She was a stranger to this world and learning more about her was prudent to his men and the quest. He had no ulterior motives for keeping himself up late into the night just to hear more about the otherworldly woman's life.

"I've been wondering something about her," Balin said, causing Thorin and Dwalin to look at him curiously, "about her role as a diplomat".

"What of it?" asked Thorin.

"Well, neither of her parents were diplomats. Her mother wandered the wilderness with animals and nature spirits, and her father was a cattleman. How does a woman with that kind of background become a diplomat for the king?"

"Her grandfather is the king," Thorin pointed out. "I am sure that worked in her favor".

"But she has never gone into details about her training or qualifications".

Thorin rolled that thought over in his head. Balin had a point. Nothing about Miss Apollides' upbringing hinted at any training in diplomacy, "Perhaps we should ask her," as soon as the words left his mouth, Thorin regretted them, for Dwalin had suddently gotten a suspiciously playful gleam in his eye.

"That's a good idea, cousin. Oi! Lass!" Dwalin called, and without looking, Thorin could feel every set of eyes in the company snap to them. "Come here! Thorin has a question for you".

As the sound of trotting hoof beats drew closer, Thorin could feel heat flooding his cheeks. He wished once again that he had left Dwalin in Ered Luin.

 

* * *

 

"Stop making moon eyes at my uncle".

Callisto glanced sideways at Kíli, who was riding to her left, "I am not making 'moon eyes' at anyone, least of all your uncle".

"You've been staring at him with a dreamy look on your face," Fíli commented with a grin poking through underneath his mustache.

"I have not," Callisto insisted. 

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, my lady," said Kíli.

Callisto's brows knit together, "I do not sleep at night".

Thorin's nephews both looked at her with identical smirks, "I find that very telling, don't you, brother?" asked Fíli.

"Aye," Kíli agreed, sounding like he was on the verge of a giggle fit

"I do not know what the two of you smoke out of your pipes at night, but whatever it is has addled your tiny, little brains".

"At least our tiny, little brains know how to relax and enjoy things once in a while. It might do you some good to partake in some our dwarven leaf".

Callisto paused in thought for a moment, then said, "If smoking your brain-addling leaf makes you and your brother more tolerable, then count me tempted".

The goddess' words may have been sharp and biting, but the truth was, since Fíli had given Callisto his knife, tensions between her and the young heirs had eased somewhat, despite what Thorin thought. Their relationship still had leagues to go, however. Callisto still inwardly cringed whenever she looked at Kíli, and poor Fíli was on the receiving end of the goddess' temper simply because he was Kíli's brother. They didn't deserve her cutting remarks, she knew that, but they took what she threw at them with good humor.

"You know, you could share a pipe with our uncle. Then both of you could make moon eyes at each other," Kíli chirped.

"Why are you two bothering me again?" Callisto sighed, running a hand over her face in agitation.

"Because you finally agreed to tell us about the war you fought in, but instead of telling us about it, you're telling us about the war that came before it," Kíli complained.

"Well," she huffed, "if you want to understand the second world war, you should understand the events of the first world war. Now, where did I leave off?"

"Something about the prince of Hungry being slain," said Fíli.

Letting out a loud sigh through her nose, Callisto called over her shoulder, "Bilbo, help".

The hobbit was riding alongside Gandalf, talking about who knew what, "I want nothing to do with that pair. They left a toad in my bedroll last night. A toad! No, you decided to deal with them today, and you're going to do it by yourself!" he called back indignantly.

On either side of her, Fíli and Kíli sat giggling at her expense.

"Fine," she sniffed. "First of all, Franz Ferdinand was an archduke, not a prince. Second, it is not 'hungry', it is Hun-gar-ee, and it was the Austria-Hungarian empire. Third, he was not slain so much as shot with a semi-automatic pistol".

Kíli groaned, an indication of his boredom, "Could you please spare us the history lesson and tell us about the exciting stuff?"

"Like what?" she asked. How naive of this to dwarf to think war was exciting! "Trench foot that caused thousands of soldiers to lose their feet? Or perhaps mustard gas that was so caustic it blistered the inside of your lungs when you breathed it in? Or watching men get blown to bits from artillery rounds? Yes, how very exciting".

Kíli's mouth set into a thin line. He fixed a very intense stare on her, trying to determine if she was telling the truth about such horrible things. "You take the fun out of everything," he mumbled despondently.

Rolling her eyes, Callisto suppressed a laugh. How a dwarf could go from teasing and laughing at her one moment to turning into the personification of a torrential downpour the next was beyond even her godly ken. If she did not throw Kíli a bone, his shifting mood would last all day.

"But we did have machines that could fly," she offered.

That did the trick. Both brothers looked at her with expressions of shock and awe, "Machines," Fíli said slowly, "that can fly".

The corner of the goddess' mouth twitched in amusement, "Indeed. Large enough to carry people. During the second world war soldiers jumped out of them onto battlefields".

A large smile broke out on Kíli's face with childlike wonder. Fíli, on the other hand, looked more skeptical, "That sounds impossible".

Callisto was just about to explain how flight was indeed possible, when Dwalin's gruff voice cut all the way through to where they were riding, "Oi, lass! Come here! Thorin has a question for you!"

"You're in trouble," concluded Kíli.

"I am not. I have not done anything".

"Maybe that's the problem".

Callisto scowled at the dark-haired dwarf before digging her heels into Aethon's sides to urge him forward until she reached Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin. "You called?" she said with a wry smile.

"Thorin wants to ask you something," Dwalin said, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes, I heard you the first time, Master Dwalin," she replied flatly. She turned her eyes to the dwarf king, "What did you want to ask me,  _Kýrie_?"

Thorin's face was redder than Dionysus after a good party, though Callisto couldn't begin to fathom why, "We were wondering," he began, refusing to meet her eyes, "how you came to be a diplomat".

"Oh!" she perked up, straightening in her saddle. "Well, it was after I started traveling on my own and met King Odin. I went back home to Olympus to tell my grandfather about Asgard and the Æsir. He was fascinated of course, but his interest became particularly piqued when I told him about the Bifrost".

"I take it an object that can transport people between worlds is not so common in your world," Balin commented.

"No, it is not. The Bifrost is the only machine like it in the universe, so of course, Zeus wanted to see it. After being welcomed in Asgard and given the grand tour, my grandfather demanded the technology to build his own. Odin would not give it to him".

"I can imagine that didn't go over well," Dwain said. Though he and his brother were looking at her with rapt interest, Thorin's gaze was situated on the road ahead, and he had not looked her way at all. She wondered for a moment if maybe Kíli had, in fact, been right in saying she was in trouble for something, but then dismissed the thought. If Thorin was angry at her, he would have no qualms about saying so.

"Not well at all. The two kings fought back and forth for weeks. It got so bad I was certain Olympus and Asgard would descend into war if a compromise was not reached. Such a war would have devastated Gaia, and I could not allow such a thing to happen. I felt responsible for bringing my grandfather to Asgard and causing so much grief to the people I had come to care about, so I took it upon myself to mediate their arguing. It took a long time, and there were many missteps along the way, but Odin and Zeus eventually came to the agreement that Olympus would not have its own Bifrost but would be allowed to use Asgard's. Zeus was impressed enough with me to appoint me as his official diplomat and mediator, so that is how I have spent my time since," she concluded.

"Well, that's quite impressive, lass!" Balin said. "How old were you when this happened?"

"I was still quite young," Callisto recalled, "I was maybe three or four thousand years old at the time".

"That's young to you?" Dwalin asked, sounding taken aback. 

Callisto didn't bother answering. She fixed her gaze on Thorin and asked, "Is there anything else you wished to ask me, or was that all?"

"I think that's it lass," Dwalin answered for his friend. "Besides, if Thorin thinks of anything else, he can bring it up during one of your  _midnight chats_ ," he barked out a grating, obnoxious howl of a laugh, and playfully smacked Thorin in the arm. Thorin's expression turned stony, and he dropped his gaze to the ground. Balin looked to be on the very cusp of laughter, but seemed to be restraining the urge.

Narrowing her eyes at the trio, Callisto said, admittedly bemused, "Forgive me, but I feel like I am missing something here".

"It's nothing," Balin said a little too quickly, "you can go back to the lads now, if you like".

"Very well," she chimed. "Are we still on for sparring tonight, Master Dwalin?"

The smile on Dwalin's face fell, "Of course, but I'm going to get the upper hand on you this time".

"Sure you are," she agreed with a patronizing smile.

Callisto halted her horse, allowing the others to pass her as she waited for Fíli and Kíli to catch up. When they thought she was out of earshot, she heard Dwalin mutter, "I hate sparring with her. She always hands me my arse and I feel like I should thank her for not doing worse".

"What did uncle want?" Kíli's voice floated to her as he and his brother drew near.

"He wanted to know how I became a diplomat".

"That sounds like an interesting story. Care to tell us?" asked Fíli.

"No!" cried his brother. "That sound stuffy and boring! I want to know more about the flying machines. Tell us more about those!"

"If you insist," Callisto said, and Kíli beamed. She spent the rest of the day indulging the brothers in whatever questions they had, but she stayed ever watchful of Thorin, wondering what Balin and Dwalin had said to him to have him so embarrassed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, reviews are welcome!
> 
> If you want, you can check out my tumblr [here](http://www.thedoubleexposurephotography.tumblr.com)


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